All the Flowers Growing Wild
by S J Smith
Summary: The flowers always smelled sweetest at the end of summer. Ed, Al and Winry get involved with a disappearance in a small town.
1. Counting Flowers on the Wall

All the Flowers Growing Wild

S J Smith

Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. Drat it all.

Summary: The flowers always smelled sweetest at the end of summer.

Rating: Let's go with teen for now.

A.N.: Thanks to D. M. Evans for the edits and attagirls on this story.

A.N. 2: Timeline, what timeline – because this takes place shortly after the whole incident with Scar and Father – but prior to the Brothers Elric actually leaving Central to go north.

* * *

Counting Flowers on the Wall

* * *

The shirring sound was soothing; a soft, continuous noise that drowned out almost everything else. The grindstone whirred and the pedal made a light drumming noise beneath the motion of his foot. He could almost do this by just listening to the sound, knowing at the instant when the blade was honed to perfection. This blade still needed a little work but it was close, oh, it was so close.

An intruding sound caught his ear and he frowned slightly, shaking it off the way a horse twitched it skin to shake off a fly. The blade was nearly ready to use. He could almost feel its completion.

"Please, help me?"

He raised the blade from the grindstone, face set in a rictus of irritation. Certain things weren't to be rushed. He was a master, didn't anyone understand that? No, no, they didn't. That wasn't something anyone understood and he knew it. Someday they would. Someday.

Rising to his feet, he moved through the curtain and into the next room, putting on his public face like pulling on a mask. "How may I help you?" he asked, turning the knife so the blade glittered in the light of the setting sun.

The little flower stared at him, her pretty red petals all in disarray. Dew fell from her eyes and her mouth gaped at him, opening and closing like a little bird's. "No," she whispered, trying to back up, her leaves stretched above her head, bowing her stalk. "No no no no…."

He smiled. "Such a pretty flower," and raised the blade. The flowers always smelled sweetest at the end of summer, he thought, shearing off the head.

* * *

It was always easy to find Edward Elric – just follow the sounds of the argument. Roy whistled silently to himself as he walked along the corridor, the noise level increasing as he approached the hospital room where the brothers Elric were supposedly recovering. From the sheer volume, he doubted Edward was resting quietly. He only hoped that Alphonse was able to ignore his brother. Then again, Alphonse might be the only reason that Edward was still actually in the hospital.

"…ready to get out of here!"

"Brother." Even Alphonse's voice had an exasperated sigh to it and Roy wondered how long Edward had been carrying on this time.

"I'm not feverish. The doctor said I was healing nicely." Edward sounded petulant – never a surprise.

Roy chose that time to open the door, sweeping into the room with a bright smile. "That's good to know, because I have an assignment for you."

"Assignment?" Edward snarled at Roy's appearance, "I don't get to heal first?"

"I just heard you. 'The doctor said I was healing nicely.'" Roy nodded politely at Alphonse, who, despite having no eyes, still managed to give the impression of rolling them.

"You were listening at the door? You bastard!" Fist clenching, Edward rose partially out of the bed only to fall back, wrapping his arm around his stomach.

"Brother!" Alphonse helped Edward settle back into bed, fussing over his brother until Edward huffed loudly.

"Hmm, maybe it is too soon." With an aggravated sigh, Roy set the flowers on the small table. "I suppose you'll need to heal up a little more." He adjusted the bouquet, giving it a critical look. "And you'll need time with your mechanic."

Edward's jaw tightened. "I'm okay," he bit out. Clenching his automail hand, he looked down at it. "We're both okay."

Roy nodded, understanding Edward's reluctance regarding his mechanic. The girl was his hostage, effectively the collar that kept Fullmetal under control. The brothers gave off an aura of dismay at the reminder of their friend. Considering the pair, Roy nodded to himself. "I think you need some time off, Fullmetal." That brought the boy's head up, his eyes wide. "Consider yourself on leave for the next three weeks."

"Three weeks?" Alphonse's helmet creaked as he turned to Roy.

"Three. I'm sure you can find something to occupy your time." Roy gestured at the window. "Go pick some flowers." He tapped the pot meaningfully. "Get some sun."

"…sun." Edward blinked, a dazed expression on his face.

"I'll make sure he does, sir." Alphonse nodded in agreement, somehow putting across that he got the message Roy didn't say out loud.

Roy tried not to think about how a featureless helmet could convey that much. "Good." He smirked, tucking his right hand into his pocket, waving his left as he started for the door. "You two have a good time. Send me a card."

"…a card."

"We will, sir," Alphonse called over his brother's voice.

Roy let the door close behind him, over the vehement, rising protests of the eldest brother that he didn't need a vacation, he was just _fine_. "I hope you will."

* * *

Edward sagged at the heat, letting out a whine of protest. "Whose idea was it to come here? I feel like I'm roasting."

"It's a nice, sunny place," Alphonse replied, following his brother off the train platform, "like Colonel Mustang said." The note with a pair of tickets hidden inside the flower pot had ordered them to the small city of Conway. Edward grumbled, head hanging down, shoulders slumped. "Brother, you should watch where you're going. You'll run into someone."

"Yeah, yeah." Edward waved off the suggestion with his free hand, glancing over his shoulder. "I just want to drop this off at the hotel," he jiggled his suitcase in emphasis, "and get something to eat." A prodigious yawn split his face, muffling the rest of his sentence so Alphonse couldn't understand it.

"Of course you want something to eat." The bright, clear voice jerked Edward halfway around, nearly sending him crashing into the young woman in front of him.

"Winry?" Edward staggered a little, staring at her.

"Don't look so surprised." She tipped her head to the side, giving Alphonse a grin. "Hello, Al."

"Hi, Winry." Alphonse responded, pleased to see her, even if he was confused.

Edward dropped his suitcase to grab her shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

Winry deliberately looked from one hand to the other then at Edward. "Your grip is weak, Ed. How long has this been a problem?"

"It – I – gah!" He flung his hands in the air, taking a step back. "You're not supposed to be here, Winry!"

"Who says?" She crossed her arms, brows knitting together. "I was told to meet you both here, today."

"You were?" Alphonse had to pitch his voice to carry over his brother's jumbled exclamations.

"I'm going to kill that bastard." Edward's snarl rang out clearly in the station, making a young mother, carrying her child, turn toward him.

"Brother!" Alphonse's chiding voice did nothing to stop the woman from backing slowly away from the trio. "Remember that people can hear you."

"I don't care." Edward stomped his foot like a little kid. "That bastard sent us on leave and got you a ticket, didn't he?"

"And what if he did?" Winry gave an aggravated huff. "I thought it was a nice gesture. Especially if you weren't going to come to me to have your automail fixed. Do you know how that looks to my other customers?"

"Customer? I'm a customer now?" Edward turned sharp teeth and narrowed eyes her way.

"Of course you're a customer!" Winry's gesture toward his automail nearly clipped Edward's nose.

"Watch it!" He jerked back out of range, a fierce expression on his face.

Alphonse, wishing he could roll his eyes, headed for the pay telephone booth. "I'll be right back," he said, as if the two combatants would even hear it. Glad he'd stuck some change in the pouch on his leg, Alphonse dialed a familiar number. "Yes, I need to be connected to Colonel Mustang's office. Yes, I can hold." He waited for a few minutes more, finally hearing a familiar voice. "First Lieutenant Hawkeye? Yes, it's Alphonse. Please tell the Colonel fifteen seconds for the betting pool. Yes, ma'am. Seconds. What? Yes, they're still arguing. I should go break them up. Brother's turning bright red. What? Oh…forty-five seconds. Wait, there was a second wager? You're kidding! Why wasn't I told? That's not fair!"

Alphonse wished he could scowl at the receiver and the calm answer that came through the lines, "…and forty-six for your reaction. That's the trifecta. I hope your leave is relaxing, Alphonse, but somehow, with your brother involved, I don't see how that will happen. Goodbye."

Understanding completely his brother's desire to slam receivers down, Alphonse indulged himself, turning around to see Edward and Winry, nose to nose, arms waving, fingers pointing and voices escalating. Somehow, Alphonse thought it was going to be a very long three weeks.

* * *


	2. Fading Like a Flower

**Chapter 2**: Fading Like a Flower

* * *

The sun blared down on Edward's head. He'd felt overheated since the train had taken them past Dublith. A little pang had gone through him at the chance to meet with their teacher but he and Alphonse had decided to keep her safe or, at least as safe as they could. Avoidance might not be the best idea but it was the one they'd decided on. It wouldn't work with Winry – she'd already been marked by the Fuhrer himself. Bad enough Bradley had followed Edward to Dublith in an attempt to meet with Izumi, though in retrospect, Edward wondered how the Fuhrer might've faired against his teacher.

"Might be one less thing we have to worry about."

"What'd you say, Ed?" Walking next to him, Winry glanced over.

"Nothin'." He shook his head in response. With a sigh, he put those thoughts aside and dredged up a smile. "So," he took a look around, "how long have you been here, Winry?"

"Since yesterday." Winry had her hands behind her back. "Wait 'til you see the hotel, Ed. It's not like those military hotels, at all. There are flowers everywhere and porters to carry your luggage to your room. And elevators!"

"Sounds expensive." Edward thought the whole town looked ritzy. The whole town seemed cleaner than a lot of the other places he and Al had been to and the buildings looked freshly painted. Huge concrete pots bloomed with bright flowers, the foliage draping over the edges as if the planters were overflowing. Windows glittered in the late afternoon sunlight and signs proudly announced stores and wares. The streets were too clean, like someone had swept them just before the train's arrival, and the whole place smelled sweet. Edward wanted to knock over one of the planters, just to see what would happen and snickered at the idea of a bunch of white-clad people, brandishing brooms and shovels, yelling at him for making a mess. "What is this place, anyway?" He waved his free hand, inclusively taking in the people, the way too clean streets and the glistening buildings. "What are they trying to prove?"

"It's a vacation spot, Ed." Winry was giving him that sidelong look, the one that told him he hadn't been paying attention and would probably get smacked for it later. "People come here to have a good time."

"A good time at what, being bored?" He didn't bother covering his yawn, hearing Winry's snort of disgust and being secretly pleased by it.

"Didn't Mr. Mustang tell you anything?" Winry stopped abruptly. "Or did you just ignore him?"

"Eh. The bastard came to the hospital and said," Edward paused midsentence, seeing Winry's expression darken.

"Hospital?" Her voice took on a dangerous note. "Why were you in the hospital, Ed? Were you fighting again? Is that how your arm got screwed up?"

Oh, damn. Edward wondered how he'd get out of this one without a couple of new lumps to the head. "My job's dangerous, Winry, you know that," he muttered, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye. "I'd rather not talk about it in the street, either." Anything to keep from drawing attention to them, he realized belatedly, considering that Mustang had set this up for that very purpose.

Face softening, Winry nodded, "I know," and Edward was reminded she knew all too well how dangerous it was. She'd been right in the middle of that fight with Scar, though only for a small portion of it. He'd hurt her then, had let her see him hurt, something Edward had never wanted Winry to see. He'd told himself he'd never let her see him during a battle and she'd just burst in on it before he'd even realized she was there. _If anything had happened to her,_ Edward thought and shook his head savagely to scatter that musing. Winry was safe or as safe as she could be.

"What's with that look?" The corners of her mouth turned down, Winry glanced up at Alphonse. "Are you guys keeping secrets again?"

"No, Winry," Alphonse said at the same time as Edward snorted loudly, saying, "You always figure them out, Miss Nosy."

"Well," the word was drawn out, "I guess I have to take your words for it." The 'this time' floated between the trio and Winry started off again, her ponytail twitching.

"Close your mouth, Brother," Alphonse said, in a voice as dry as a desert, "and stop staring at Winry's backside."

* * *

The message had been succinct, tucked in the stupid flowers that the stupid Colonel Bastard had left in his room – 'Go to Conway immediately on the South Central line. You'll meet someone there to help you.' The tickets had hammered the point home even more. Edward followed the order reluctantly, knowing at this time, he had no choice. It was either be under the magnifying glass in Central or do his best to get out of sight for a little while. Dragging Winry into it certainly hadn't been part of his plans but she was right – he needed work done to his automail and if he couldn't – shouldn't – go to her, it was best they meet somewhere.

The hotel Winry led them to was, Edward thought, far more expensive than necessary. What was the bastard trying to do, announce that he was in town? "Relax," Winry said, "it's in my name."

"That's even worse! How's it going to look, reservations in your name?"

Winry raised an eyebrow at him and Edward almost – almost! – quailed at that expression. "Why?" Her eye twitched and Edward braced himself for a wrench upside his skull. "What sort of dirty thoughts are in your head, Edward?"

Alphonse snickered as Edward garbled out a plea in his own defense; that he was really looking out for her reputation. He thought she might believe it then her face twisted in irritation. "I'm a mechanic, Edward. You're my customer. Why would anyone have a problem with us sharing a room? What if something happened and you needed specific care? That's the reputation I'm worried about." She flounced up the hotel steps, leaving the brothers behind.

"Brother," Alphonse sighed.

Edward sighed. "I know, I know. Close my mouth."

"And stop staring at Winry's backside."

* * *

There were so many pretty flowers. So many. They drifted along the streets, all in brilliant hues, each one more delectable than the last. The birds sang around them, almost seemed to court the beauties. Take the silver alyssum, head bobbing slightly in the breeze, the bright chrysanthemum in cheerful accompaniment. Or the tiny dandelion, matched with a taller one of the same species. A glorious bouquet, all waiting for the harvest. They had to be plucked at just the right time, though, otherwise they'd go to seed.

So many pretty flowers. He just had to decide which one he should pick next.

* * *

Winry felt justified in her comments to the brothers when they stared slackjaw at the room. Well, Ed's mouth hung open. Al…didn't have a jaw but still managed to give that impression. Maybe it was the way the horsehair crest on his helmet sort of shocked up, like a cat's tail. "Wow, Winry." Alphonse turned in a slow circle in almost the center of the main living area. "This is ours?"

"Uh huh." Winry folded her arms, grinning. "I took that room over there." She nodded at the doorway off to the left. "I figured you guys should have the big bedroom, since you'll stay together. The bathroom's over there, Ed." Pleased with their reactions, Winry studied the room with new eyes. It was actually a suite, with the two bedrooms and private bath, and a tiny kitchen with an ice box and two burner stove. The main room had both an area for dining and an area for entertaining, separated by a low wall. Some art, a painting of a vase full of flowers and another of flowers strewn across a table, decorated the walls near the sofa. The colors were comfortably bland; blues and creams and greys; and Winry wondered if she should order in some rags, in case she had to totally tear down Edward's arm. She'd hate to get dirty oil or grease ground into any of the fabric. Of course, with two alchemists, they could probably transmute anything out of the fabric but it never did to rely on anyone else. Winry had her own work shop rags she'd brought with her but who ever knew if they'd be enough.

Ed pushed through the master bedroom door and Winry heard him toss his suitcase onto the bed. He came out almost immediately afterward, stripping off the brown jacket he wore instead of his long red coat. Winry wondered about that. Ed had his coat the last time she'd seen him; it had been damaged in that fight – and Winry managed not to shiver at the memory of that – but he still had it. Edward Elric wasn't exactly someone to change his wardrobe. That he didn't have his red jacket was more than a little surprise.

"What?" He froze in midstep, one hand tangled up in his hair as he scratched at the braid.

"Nothing." Winry wasn't going to ask any more than she'd ask about why Ed was in the hospital prior to coming to Conway. She wanted to know, she didn't want to know. It was confusing. At least they'd kept their promise to her. They were still alive, no matter what had happened.

"Okay," Ed glanced toward Alphonse, sharing a look with his brother. "Look, I'm starving. Let's go find some food, okay?" He turned his attention back to Winry, giving her a tentative smile.

"Yeah." Winry answered with her own grin. "I'd like that, Ed."

"While you two do that, I think I'll go to the library," Al said.

"Huh?" Edward's smile faded. "What's up, Al?"

"Well, you know. I can't eat." Shrugging made his shoulder plates rattle. "It makes sense. I mean, we were told to come here and I could get some research in while you two go eat."

"I can wait to eat," Ed began but Al stopped him by raising his palm.

"Your stomach is growling. I can hear it. Go get something to eat." He pushed Ed toward the door. "Take Winry someplace nice, Brother."

"But Al, you should come, too," Winry patted his forearm. She could swear he rolled his eyes at her.

"No, you two go and have fun." Al sounded determined to make them go without him, Winry thought. "I'll just be a nuisance."

Ed winced and tried to cover it up by snarling up at his brother. "You're not a nuisance."

"No, Al." Winry took his hand, tugging on it. "You should come with us. You need to relax, too. We'll have a good time."

Sighing, Alphonse nodded. "All right, I'll go with you guys." Winry pulled him out of the room while Edward locked the door behind them.

* * *

Jeez, Alphonse thought, his brother and Winry were incredibly stubborn. And, he hated to say it, completely clueless. Now that they'd convinced him to go with them to dinner, they were walking ahead of him, lost in their own little squabble. Winry was telling Edward that she wanted to tear down his arm as soon as they finished eating, while Edward was whining back that it could wait a little while so they could go check out the library. As if Edward wouldn't get lost in a pile of books. And would Winry be content in a library? Well, maybe if there were magazines on automail that she didn't have in Rush Valley – but how could that be possible? The 'Boom Town of the Broken Down' was more likely to have all the current magazines and other publications on automail, so Winry would've left that bounty behind to come here. Alphonse wondered if he should instead be suggesting to the bickering pair that maybe they should look at fun things to do in the town, though he doubted that would go over well. At least, not yet. Though Colonel Mustang had suggested (on the sly, of course, since Brother would've taken any of this with a screaming fit that would've lasted all the way from Central to Conway), that Alphonse connive to get Edward and Winry on one of the little boats for a nighttime cruise, Alphonse wasn't sure that would happen. His brother and water were not a very good mix – if the boats were as small as he imagined, one might tip easily and send Edward straight to the bottom from the weight of his automail.

Maybe this was simply a bad idea. Maybe he should suggest Winry work on Edward's arm, fix the problem, and return to Rush Valley. He and Edward could go somewhere else instead. But Alphonse genuinely liked spending time with Winry. She was one of the few people who could keep his brother in line. And, Alphonse knew, Edward would appreciate this time with her, even if he didn't say anything. Alphonse didn't want to think about how long it might be before they saw her again.

"Why don't we stop there?" Alphonse pointed at a restaurant with some tables set outside and warm lights brightening the late afternoon dusk. More of those planters full of flowers were arranged around the tables, almost forming a little barricade against passersby. A few couples sat at the tables, seeming to be enjoying their meals or at least staring into each other's eyes, not that Alphonse expected his brother and Winry to suddenly come to their senses and realize what everyone else had.

Breaking off in the middle of the argument, Edward took an appreciative sniff of the air. "Smells good." He started forward only to stop abruptly. "This is okay, huh, Winry?"

Eyebrows shooting into her bangs, Winry remained completely still for a few seconds before nodding agreeably. "Yeah." She grinned, first at Edward then up at Alphonse. "If it's okay with Al."

"You two are the ones who'll be eating." Alphonse held up his hands to stop that thought right there. "I'll just be refereeing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Edward scowled at him and Alphonse pointed back in response.

"You know exactly what I mean, Brother."

"Oh, come on, Ed." Winry walked past him, her skirt flouncing, and Alphonse saw his brother's eyes glaze over again. "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat."

"Uh, huh." Edward followed her and Alphonse followed him, shaking his head mentally. Winry had chosen an outside table, sitting next to one of those massive flowerpots. Alphonse thought it made a pretty picture; her upper body framed by the flowers behind her. He wondered if his brother even noticed as he flung himself into the chair opposite Winry, leaning an elbow on the table and cupping his chin in his palm. A waiter, dressed in a rich, golden brown uniform with a white shirt underneath, appeared to offer them menus and collect their drink orders before whisking back inside the restaurant.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Winry tucked her hands in her lap, her eyes bright as she glanced past Alphonse to the street.

"Smells really clean." Edward's half-lidded eyes meant he was either bored or sleepy. Alphonse doubted Edward would be eyeing Winry across the table. "Too clean." He sat up abruptly, coming back to life as the waiter placed drinks on the table. Smiling, Edward closed his mouth around the straw, sucking in delight.

Winry rolled her eyes in Alphonse's general direction and he shrugged. Edward's manners weren't the best, definitely, but what was he going to do? Smack him on the back of his head while they were actually at the restaurant? Edward didn't get embarrassed about such things for that to be an effective learning tool. After taking a deliberate sip of her own drink, Winry set it in the center of the table. "Do you know what you want to eat, Ed?"

"Whu?" Edward blinked at her. "I guess a sandwich." His stomach growled, almost as if in response. Lower lip stuck out, he grumbled, "You two can stop laughing now."

"If you're hungry, Ed, order more than just a sandwich." Alphonse tuned Winry out as she pointed out some of the other menu items to Edward, listening instead to the ebb and flow of the city around them. Each city had its own particular sound, Alphonse had found, and Conway was no exception. Of course, every city had similarities but not all cities had the same things in them to make the same sorts of sounds. Conway, if he concentrated, had the faint gurgle of water, not just from the fountains that splashed and played at intervals in the street, but from a lake and Alphonse would suppose a stream or a river that fed said lake. While there was the hum of engines, indicating cars operated within the city, Alphonse could also pick up the clip clop of horses' hooves along with the squeak of wagon wheels.

He didn't like considering how it was he could hear without ears. Did souls hear? And if so, how? It really could give him a headache, trying to think about it, if he had a way to get a headache. He could see, he could hear, he could speak, he could move. He wasn't some sort of wind up toy or automaton; he was a person, just completely trapped inside of steel, with a body trapped elsewhere. Turning his attention back to Winry, Alphonse again admired her. The hanging lanterns warmed her hair, giving it a hue nearly the same shade as his brother's. The lights lent a sparkle to her eyes, not that she really needed any enhancement. As if she felt his regard, the smile she gave him had a crook in it. "What is it, Al?"

He prepared to answer, choosing and disgarding responses almost as fast as they came to mind. "Uh…."

"Cat got your tongue, Al?" Edward socked him on the arm, making the armor boom softly. "Wait, you don't have a cat in there, do you?"

His reply was lost when a young man shoved up to their table, rocking it. Edward snatched at his drink, snarling out a curse when it spilled. Winry's glass bounced once and splashed, covering her in pink liquid. Whirling up out of his chair, Edward grabbed the man's clothes. "Why don't you watch where you're going?"

"Ed!"

"Brother." Alphonse noticed the staring expression on the young man's face, catching hold of Edward's shoulders. "Let him go."

"Look, man," his teeth bared, Edward turned to wave at Winry, "you got my friend wet."

"I'm sorry," the young man caught Edward's wrists, pushing at them, "I thought she was someone else."

"Yeah? Even if she was, that doesn't mean you get to barge right up on top of her." Edward shoved the guy off of him as a flurry of waiters descended from the restaurant.

"What seems to be the trouble, sir?" one of them asked as two of the others caught hold of the young man. Sullen, he glared at the sidewalk. Alphonse was a little surprised at how uniform the waiters looked. He couldn't be sure which one had originally come to their table to collect their orders.

"This guy rammed into our table and spilled our drinks." Edward's mouth turned down at the sight of Winry trying to wipe the worst of the liquid off with her napkin. "Let me take care of it, Winry."

"Oh, no." Standing up, she shook her head, tossing her napkin on the table. "I can just imagine what you'd do to my clothes. I'll just go back to the hotel and clean up. You and Al can bring something for me to eat, if that's okay."

"Whatever you want, Winry." Alphonse considered quickly. "Or Brother can walk you back and I'll bring food for both of you."

"I'm sorry," the young man said, looking at Winry through his bangs, reminding Alphonse of Edward's habit. "I didn't mean to," his voice trailed off and he shook his head.

"It was an accident." Winry's glare made one of the waiters take a step back. "Let him go."

"Winry," Edward began and she fixed him with a glower that shut his mouth.

Grabbing Edward's arm, she tugged him closer. "Look at him, Ed. It was a mistake. He's obviously sorry." Winry's mouth pursed and her eyes narrowed. "Hey, mister. Are you okay?"

He raised his head at her question, quickly rubbing the heel of his hand across his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered in a muffled voice. "I just want to find her."

"Find who?" Edward always sounded so impatient, Alphonse thought, and crossing his arms like that didn't improve the question any.

"Anne. My girlfriend." Shoulders slumping, the young man nodded at Winry. "I apologize again, miss. It was a natural mistake. You and Anne have the same coloring."

When they were younger, they were able to communicate without speaking; a one-shouldered shrug and the tilt of an eyebrow, along with a slight hand gesture could almost tell an entire story. Alphonse realized Winry was doing that now, her head cocked to the side as she met his and Edward's gaze, her eyebrows rising questioningly. Edward's mouth tightened for an instant but he raised his hands in response to Winry's narrowed eyes. It didn't surprise Alphonse at all when Winry turned back to the stranger. "What happened to Anne?"

He shook his head. "I wish I knew. We came to this town a week ago." With a sickly little smile, he went on. "I haven't seen her for three days."

* * *


	3. Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

**Chapter 3**: Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

* * *

They wound up taking the guy – "Anthony. Anthony Heubner. Call me Tony. Everyone does" – with them back to the hotel. Edward wasn't too keen on the idea of Tony knowing where they were staying – hell, what if he was Envy in disguise? Or one of the Fuhrer's men? – but Winry overruled him in that particular way she had. _Dammit, I am not getting soft on her blue eyes. It's that stupid wrench's fault!_ And then Winry needed a shower to get cleaned up and that was awkward, sitting at the table, waiting for her to come back out. Edward found himself half wishing he was anywhere else than in this room. For some reason, the idea of Winry in the shower was playing havoc with his brain. Every time he managed to drag them back to the matter at hand, some sort of sound would come through the walls and Edward would lose his train of thought again. Glad that Alphonse was there to keep up with what the Tony guy was saying, Edward just hoped his face wasn't turning red as his favorite jacket.

The sound of the bathroom door opening nearly had Edward spinning in his seat but he managed to remain still, even though a wave of steam entered the room, carrying the scent of some sort of flowers. He thought it might be honeysuckle or maybe lavender. Whatever it was, it smelled nice and like Winry. _Dammit, I'm doing it again!_ Scowling, Edward forced his attention back on the Tony guy, folding his arms across his chest. I'm _listening._

"…for a little time off." Tony spun his middle fingers around each other; his gaze focused on the movements of his fingers. "I've known Anne for four years, now." He sighed, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. "I wanted to bring her here and take her out on one of the punting boats; get her in the middle of the lake and propose."

_Whaaat?_ Edward jerked sideways, really wishing there was a way of reading Al's face. His little brother was tapping his fingertips together, like he was embarrassed about something or wanting to change the subject. Just what the hell was the plan with Winry, here? Showing he was actually paying attention, Edward leaned his elbow on the table, slowly turning away from his brother. "So, what happened?" He hoped that Al hadn't already asked that question.

Tony's smile became more self-depreciating. "We got into an argument. I should've gone for the walk to cool off, you know? Instead, Anne said she wanted to go and I. Let Her." He pounded his fist on the table, emphasizing each word.

"Then what?" Winry took the chair across from Edward, her hair still damp and dark from the shower. She pushed a strand back over her shoulders, her brow furrowing.

Tony's grimace wasn't hidden by the way he lowered his head. "I haven't seen her since. No one's seen her. It's like she vanished."

"Could she have gone back home?" Winry's frown deepened.

"I called." He glanced at Winry. "No one's seen her. Her parents, they died in the Ishbal war. One of the families took her in but she was just waiting until she got old enough to leave our little town. I thought I'd go with her. I have a job waiting for me in Dublith, one that would set us up with a house, if we saved for a couple of years." His gaze went distant as he murmured, "Anne loved flowers. That's why I wanted to bring her to Conway, the flowers. Have you seen the gardens? Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Brother." Alphonse sounded disappointed.

Edward waved him off. "So Anne liked flowers. I saw two flower shops just down the street from here. Did you talk to any of the florists?"

"Every single one in this town." Tony shook his head, dismayed. "Nobody remembered her." He fished in his pocket, pulling out a pocket watch. "You'd think if someone had seen Anne," he opened the lid, offering the watch to Winry, "I'd hear about it."

Winry studied the watch. "She's pretty." Passing the watch to Alphonse, she touched Tony's hand, squeezing it. "What did the police say?"

Yanking free from Winry's grasp, Tony rose, moving jerkily away from the table. "They said she was an adult. She just went home. Or somewhere else." Laughing sharply, he dug his fingers into his hair. "Anne wouldn't have gone home. She wouldn't have left without telling me." Whirling back, he slammed his hands on the tabletop, making it shudder. "We loved each other."

The corners of Edward's mouth turned down as he accepted the watch from Al. The photograph was carefully cut to fit into the watch cover and, studying it, Edward could understand why Tony had thought Winry was his girlfriend. Their coloring was very close and the shape of their faces similar. Anne, Edward thought, wasn't quite as cute as Winry but he'd almost bet Tony would say the same thing about Winry not being as pretty as Anne.

"Maybe we can help," Alphonse said.

"We can." Winry was nodding. "We can help you talk to the police. Ed's an - "

"Part of the military." Edward inserted before Winry could say he was an alchemist. He didn't want Tony to know; didn't really want anyone to know. He was supposed to be covertly on leave, after all. Ignoring Winry's curious glance, Edward folded his arms. "I might be able to get someone to pay attention to you."

Tony's expression was one of polite disbelief. "No offense, but you're just a kid. You're part of the military?"

Edward's jaw tightened. At least Tony hadn't called him short. "I'm a major," he muttered, "I can talk to the police for you."

"A major?" His eyebrows climbing into his bangs, Tony shook his head. "Sorry. Yeah." His face cleared and he offered Edward an apologetic smile. "I'd appreciate any help you can offer. Each of you." This time, Tony included Al and Winry in his grin. "I just want to find Anne." Smile wavering, Tony pressed his fingertips to his eyes, not able to stop the tears that trickled out from under his closed lids.

"We'll find her." Winry's firm voice was a promise. Edward just hoped they'd be able to keep it.

* * *

Winry was all for starting the search that night; going to the police stations in town and insisting that someone help Tony, right then and there. Tony approved of the idea and Edward went along with it, albeit a little reluctantly. Alphonse understood that reluctance though he didn't say anything out loud. If Anne had been missing as long as Tony said, it was possible she was already dead or that she really didn't want Tony to find her. Personally, Alphonse wasn't quite sure they should have let Tony come back to the hotel room with them. The way he'd look at Winry when she didn't seem to notice made Alphonse bristle. Somehow, those lingering glances didn't coincide with Edward's, otherwise Tony might've gotten an earful.

Edward spoke privately to the officer on duty at each police station. While kind and attentive, the officers didn't seem particularly helpful or even encouraging. Alphonse was positive Edward was showing his watch to make sure that Tony's request was heard, though they weren't privy to the actual conversation. Instead, he and Winry waited outside while Edward called Tony back into the office. Three stations in as many hours and even Alphonse felt some of the drag that he could see in both his brother and Winry. He wished he could've encouraged them to eat something before they started this errand. Instead, they'd soldiered on, somehow managing to ignore Tony's increasing agitation.

At the third station, as Winry slumped in her hard chair, her elbows on her knees and her chin in her cupped hands, Alphonse went to the desk and asked where they could get some sandwiches or something to eat. The sergeant on duty suggested a place just around the corner. "It's a greasy spoon," he said, stroking his moustache with a fore finger, "but it's about the only place that's still open this late, unless you want fancy."

"No, someplace simple is fine." Alphonse knew his brother would just want food, not to deal with a waiter who would look down his nose at a trio of kids, one in armor and the other two dressed casually. He returned to sit with Winry and they waited for Tony and Edward to come back from their talk with the officer.

"It's a little scary, isn't it, Al?" Winry straightened up, twining her fingers in her lap. "That someone could just disappear like that?"

"I'm sorry, Winry. We haven't been very good about keeping in contact with you, have we?" Alphonse wanted to touch her shoulder but thought maybe she wouldn't get any comfort out of it or worse, it would be awkward for both of them.

"You have good reason." Her smile was wan and Alphonse thought it wasn't good enough reason, to leave her and Granny Pinako wondering if they were dead or alive. "It's okay, Al." Winry turned, patting his shoulder, offering him comfort, as if he was a real person instead of a walking, talking suit of armor.

He didn't agree but couldn't really say anything to that. Instead, Alphonse studied the posters, stuck to the wall across from them. There were some wanted posters and Alphonse thought he saw a drawing of Scar half-hidden under another sheet of yellowed paper. A few posters were of missing people; some men, some women, some children. A pretty girl stared out of one of the posters and Alphonse had to look away. The little girl resembled Nina.

"But what I meant," Winry went on, her voice soft, "is one second, someone's there and the next, that person is just…gone. I understand why you guys left and why Mom and Dad did. Tony doesn't and unless we can find Anne, he'll never know."

"Yeah." Alphonse understood now. This time, he put his hand on Winry's shoulder, wishing he could feel the warmth of her skin; wishing he could offer more than the cold leather that made up his gauntlets and the hard steel that housed his soul.

Hearing his brother's voice, they both looked up, Alphonse rising to his feet. Winry peered past him, her fingers clenching in her lap.

"…for listening to us," Edward was saying to the officer while Tony nodded in agreement.

"Of course, sir," the officer said. "I must say, it's been an honor to meet you." He saluted Edward out the door.

Edward managed to keep from screwing up his face at that but only just. Tony, on the other hand, eyed him curiously, as if wondering why it would be an honor at all. "You know how to contact us," Edward went on, preferring to offer his hand to the officer than to salute back.

"Yes, sir." The officer nodded his grizzled head, clapping his hand on Tony's shoulder. "We'll do our best to find your fiancée."

"Thank you." Tony sounded mollified. "I appreciate your help, Officer Rothschild." He, too, shook the officer's hand before joining Edward. "Now what?"

"Now," Edward said, almost patiently, "we're going to get something to eat. If we can find a place that's still open."

"I know of one. The sergeant at the desk told me about a diner." Alphonse noticed Tony looking at Winry again. Was he staring at her legs?

"I'd like something to eat." Winry sounded tired as she said that, getting to her feet. Alphonse wanted to block her from Tony's sight but she stepped up closer to the man. "You could come with us, if you want, Tony."

He smiled in response, shaking his head. "No, I've probably taken enough of your time. But if it weren't for you three, the police wouldn't have spoken with me. I really appreciate it, Edward." Tony offered Edward his hand.

"Eh…no problem." Edward shook hands. "Look, if you hear anything, let us know, all right? I mean, you know where we're staying."

"Yeah, I will." Tony followed them out of the station, his hands tucked in his pockets. "Look, thank all of you for your help. Winry, I'm sorry about your clothes. You can send me the cleaning bill."

"It's okay, Tony." She smiled at him, weary but genuine. "You should try to get some rest. Tomorrow, maybe you'll have good news."

He nodded at that. "Thanks again." Raising a hand in a quick wave, he glanced around, making sure of the direction, and started off down the street.

Edward let out a sigh akin to a train whistle. "Ahhh, I'm glad that's over," he said, when it was obvious Tony was no longer in earshot. "C'mon. I'm starving. Al, where's this diner?"

"This way." Alphonse pointed in the opposite direction that Tony took, glad that they were going their separate ways.

* * *

The daisy was slender, with beautiful, perfect petals that almost seemed to glow in the dim lighting. He liked daisies; they were nearly his very favorite of all flowers. They seemed simple and common but they blended so well with others. They were the first blush of love, what with that simple, 'loves me, loves me not' refrain. Their petals seemed thin and delicate but withstood winds that other flowers couldn't stand up to. And, perhaps best of all, they grew easily, almost anywhere. They brightened garden nooks and clustered well in jars. They weren't as elegant as an orchid or as robust as a rose but they looked good, regardless.

He was particularly fond of the daisies he found while he wandered around Conway. He found them in such unusual places. They grew everywhere, in the alleys where the good folk didn't dare go; in the gardens of the wealthy. It sometimes was a challenge, finding the perfect flower but his daisies never let him down. They always grew up, almost like weeds. Sometimes more than one presented itself to him, making his decisions more difficult. Still, he figured he shouldn't be greedy. Daisies were almost plentiful enough that everyone could have them.

He just liked to make sure the best ones came to his garden.

* * *

Even the comfort of the bed didn't distract Edward from his thoughts. They kept rolling around in his head, nagging at him. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to sleep. Tony's girlfriend, Anne; the way she just disappeared; it almost made him sick to think that something like that could happen to Winry.

"What's wrong, Brother?"

Couldn't sneak anything past Al. Well, not much, at least. Edward sighed, lacing his hands together to cradle his head. "Just thinking, Al."

"About Winry?"

Dammit, why did Al have to be so perceptive? "Yeah."

"What are you thinking about her?"

And why did he have to have that sly tone to his voice? Edward turned his head to glare at his little brother though the glower melted almost before Al noticed it. "Trying to decide if we should tell her about everything that happened after she left Central."

Al's, "Oh," sounded even more hollow than normal and made Edward snort in response.

"I don't want to, Al. I don't want to scare her. But I can't help thinking I ought to warn her, you know? She never asked for this but she's caught up in it." Edward sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "But then I think, what if she hates us for getting her involved?"

"Brother," Alphonse began, sounding stern, and Edward waved a hand in response.

"I know, that's stupid. But I still think it, Al." He sighed gustily. "I want to know if I should tell her about Ling and Ran Fan." His mouth tipped down. "What if Greed catches up to her? He could take her to that…Father and who knows what could happen." And Winry would trust Greed, too, because of Ling, and not knowing how dangerous things could be. "Gah!" Edward dug his flesh hand into his hair.

"Maybe we should tell her." Alphonse still sounded unsure and Edward didn't blame him. Winry would probably want to know why they hadn't told her immediately. And how would she react, finding out she was a hostage? Edward dreaded saying anything but he thought if she didn't know, it might be worse. Maybe this was why Colonel Bastard sent her the ticket, so he and Al could explain to Winry what was actually going on.

"…Dammit."

"Don't tear at your hair, Brother."

"…just wish I knew what to do." Edward let his hands fall between his knees, leaning his elbows on his thighs. He never wanted Winry to be involved in this. Never even thought that someone would make her a part of it. How stupid was that, on his part? The way he and Al protected her from Scar would have made tongues wag, especially after all his work trying to attract Scar's attention in the first place. Even if Bradley hadn't come to the police station and sat with Winry, Edward thought the Fuhrer would've heard of Winry somehow or another. He hated the idea of 'fate' but it almost seemed that Winry was destined to walk the razor's edge with Al and him.

"Well, we have almost three more weeks, Brother. I'm sure you'll think of something." Alphonse got up. "I think I'll do some studying in the main room. Good night."

Murmuring some sort of reply, Edward flopped back down on the bed, covering his eyes with his arm. Maybe things would make sense in the morning. Maybe Al would have his body back by then, too, as long as he was dreaming.


	4. The Flower that Shattered the Stone

**Chapter 4:** The Flower That Shattered the Stone

* * *

Winry was hard pressed to believe she might be the first one awake. Al, for one thing, didn't sleep. Ed slept like the dead but had nightmares so she was never sure if he slept the whole night through or not. A snippet of their conversation the last time she had been with the brothers flashed in her mind, about Ed thinking that maybe he was feeding Al when he ate. Maybe Ed slept for Al, too? Winry screwed up her face, deciding that was a pretty weird thought. It would explain how Ed could be awake one second and just drop off the next, though.

Shrugging those thoughts off, Winry left her bedroom to make use of the bath. On her way there, she noticed the door to the boys' room was still closed; pretty much proof that Ed wasn't up yet. Alphonse, she realized, wasn't in the main room, which was something of a surprise. She was accustomed to finding him up whenever she got up. Winry wondered if Al had found a stray cat somewhere.

After she finished in the bath, Winry went back out into the main room. A piece of hotel stationery with a pen atop it waited for her attention. _Brother, Winry_, it read, _I thought I'd go by the library this morning. I should be back around ten o'clock. You don't have to wait for me if you want to do something. Have fun! – Al_

"'Have fun'?" Eyebrows reaching for her bangs, Winry shook her head. Al's little attempt to send her off with Ed alone last night hadn't slipped past her. She could've told him the way he'd suggested it would guarantee Ed would blow a gasket and insist Al come along.

Patting a yawn, Winry wondered if Ed would be hungry when he woke up. Scratch that, Ed was almost always hungry. She'd stocked the little ice box with things to eat; fruit and cheese; some eggs, tomatoes and bacon, plus milk and butter; and figured she could make them egg sandwiches to eat. Those were always good for breakfast, even as late in the morning as it was now. Besides, one of the easiest ways to get Ed out of bed was to start cooking something. His nose would haul him out of the bedroom almost before he was totally awake.

It didn't take long before the inevitable happened and Edward staggered out of his bedroom, the hem of his a-line shirt hanging partially out of his shorts. With a deep, rough morning voice, he mumbled, "Somethin' smells good."

"Breakfast." Winry glanced at him over the stove. "Go get cleaned up and you can set the table.

Giving her a piteous whine, Ed blinked, puppy-like, through the thicket of his bangs. "I'm hungry." His stomach growled in emphasis.

"Your hair's a mess. I don't want to look at it while I'm eating." She pointed the spatula at Ed first, then the bathroom door.

"Close your eyes, then." Ed shuffled from one foot to the other and yawned, nearly cracking his jaws. "Eh." He scratched his stomach absently as he staggered off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Breakfast was on the table by the time he came out, with tea steaming in a pot and an apple cut into wedges alongside the sandwich on his plate. Winry was already chewing on her sandwich when Ed sat across from her. "Smells good." He offered her a quick, though genuine, smile as he picked up his own sandwich, taking a bite. "Mmm…just needs that old bat's hot sauce."

"I didn't know I was coming here or I'd have asked Granny to send some." Winry set her sandwich down to check the tea. The fragrant vapor tickled her nose and she inhaled the scent hungrily. "This is ready if you want some." She set the lid back on the pot.

"Mmhmm," Ed mumbled around his sandwich, nodding vigorously. Winry filled his cup first, then her own, setting the pot back on the table. A sugar bowl had been provided but she had to get up to get herself the milk bottle, ignoring the face Ed made as she brought it to the table. "You ruin the tea with that crap."

"Do not." Winry stuck her tongue out at him as she poured the milk into the tea, stirring it. "Just because you like your tea black."

Ed gave the bottle of milk an evil glare. "That stuff is vile."

"If you drank it, you'd have a reason for me to lengthen your automail." Winry took a bite of her sandwich, thinking that it really did need some of Granny's hot sauce.

"Are you calling me short?" Ed's eye twitched as he leaned partway over the table, lips curled back in a snarl.

Really, he made it too easy. "If the automail fits."

"What do you know? You're a machine junky!" Ed nearly knocked over his chair in his haste to stand.

"A machine junky who's taller than you, remember." Winry took another bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully as Ed did his angry dance around the table.

He stopped next to her chair, glaring. "I'm still growing!"

"Yeah? Prove it." Winry took another bite of her sandwich. "Last time I saw you, you were," she thought back, her eyes widening suddenly at the memory. _Ed's back…he really is growing,_ followed by a hasty, _And I'm not telling him that!_

"I was what?" His expression turned sly and the way Ed looked at her was enough to give Winry shivers. She ignored him to concentrate on her sandwich.

"Short."

"Gyah!" Ed danced in place this time. "I am not short!"

"Oh, please." Winry finished her sandwich, licking her fingers indulgently. "If I didn't know it was you, I'd swear a mosquito was buzzing around my ear."

Ed's screech was so high pitched, Winry thought he'd break the milk bottle.

* * *

Winry made Ed clean up the dishes – "It's only fair, I cooked" – while she reviewed the guidebook left on the end table. "There sure are a lot of flower things in this town."

Ed snorted in response. "Flowers, who cares about flowers? Does it say when the library opens?"

"You could ask Al, since he went there before I got up." Winry turned another page. "Carriage rides, boat tours, walking tours."

"Boring." Ed stretched the word out to four syllables.

"The boat tour could be nice." Winry then considered being on the water with Ed and Al and shook her head. "Maybe a walking tour."

"You could do that without a guide." There was a clatter of dishes from the kitchenette.

No mistaking the, 'have fun, I'm not going,' tone to Ed's voice. "I suppose we could look for a machine shop." She flipped to the next page. More flowers? Was this a city or a garden? "I might need one to repair your arm." Raising up, Winry half turned to holler over the back of the sofa, "You'd better not break any of the dishes, either, Ed."

"I'm not!" She heard him growl, "Slave driver," just loud enough for her to catch it.

"Hey, at least I'm counting this trip as a holiday," Winry called back, "and not charging you for the work I'll have to do on your arm."

"Three weeks, I can't believe I'm stuck here for three weeks." Completely missing Winry's glare, Ed came out of the kitchenette, drying his hands on a towel. He tossed it at the table, where it defied gravity, part of it dangling over the edge. "Maybe Al'll find something good at the library." Ed hopped into the chair, swinging his legs up over one arm and curling his spine to use the other arm as a pillow.

"Maybe we ought to look for Tony." Winry raised her eyes over the top of the guidebook to watch Ed's reaction. "Or for Anne."

The corners of his mouth tilted down, his eyelids lowering over his eyes. "About that, Winry."

She sat a little straighter, marking her place in the book with her forefinger. "What about it?"

"I…just don't want you to get your hopes up, okay?" Ed didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on his knees, as far as Winry could tell.

Winry considered her answer, knowing Ed would expect her to say something. "Yeah," she said finally, "I know. I hear the stories, too, Ed. People vanish; just disappear. Sometimes they get found, though. That's what I'm hoping."

Still refusing to look her way, Ed nodded once, an abrupt gesture. "Yeah." He sighed gustily, blowing his bangs up with the force of his exhalation. "Look, Winry, maybe you should just fix my arm and get back to Rush Valley. It could be," he hesitated, his voice trailing off.

"Dangerous?" Winry sat the rest of the way up, setting aside her book. "You mean like it was in Central?"

The expression on Ed's face told her almost everything she wanted to know. "I don't want you involved in that."

"Speak up, Ed, you're mumbling." Winry stood, her hands going to her hips. "I am involved, if in no other way because you and Al are my friends. Do you think I wanted to know just how dangerous your lives are? But I know now. It isn't going to stop me from worrying about either of you." She softened her stance a little bit. "So, if you think you need to worry about me, I guess that's okay. But I'm not the one who's out there, getting involved in trouble."

"I don't go actively looking for it." Ed swung his legs off the arm of the chair, glaring at Winry.

"I know you don't." She gave him a smile in response to his glower. "And I know you're not going to tell me what you and Al are involved in or why you got hurt." Gesturing at his arm, she added, "Or how you screwed up your arm." Ed's lower lip was poking out. "It's okay, Ed. I mean, you told me what happened to Mom and Dad."

"Yeah, well." Ed scratched the back of his head, turning his face away again. With another heavy sigh, he got out of his chair. "Look, why don't we go find Al and see if there's anything to do in this town that doesn't involve flowers." He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

"There's always the guidebook." Winry nodded at it, earning another eye roll from Ed.

"Yeah, let's use that as a last resort." He motioned with his head. "C'mon, get dressed. Let's get out of here."

Grinning, Winry nodded, heading for her bedroom. "I'll be ready in just a few minutes!"

* * *

The sky outside was clear and just a few shades lighter than Winry's eyes – not that Edward was looking or anything; he just _noticed._ He also wasn't looking at her legs or the way the hem of her sundress whipped around her knees. Really. Walking beside her, his hands tucked into his pockets, Edward stole glances at her from the corner of his eye. At least she looked happy, even though there weren't any automail shops around. Or mechanics, as far as Edward could tell. He was sure Winry would've mentioned it if she'd found listings in that stupid guidebook.

Mentally shaking his head, Edward wondered again just what the hell Mustang had been thinking, sending them here. And Winry, too. His arm wasn't in that bad of shape; it could've waited a while longer. And now, Edward had to think about the possibility of some weirdo freak snatching girls. Wouldn't it be just like the bastard to have heard of this and send him and Al here to take care of this problem – and thrown Winry into the mix as bait? _If I find out he had a clue about this_….

"I can hear your servos whining, Ed. What's wrong?" Winry sounded curious rather than irritated.

Even so, he pulled his hands out of his pockets, flexing his fingers. "Sorry. Just thinking about something." He tried a smile; gave it up with a shrug.

"About Anne?" Winry twined her fingers behind her back.

"Yeah, I guess. A little bit." How did she and Al do it? Was it written on his face? "So, did you see something you wanted to do?" Changing the subject, that worked, right?

"I thought we'd go check on Al first. If I can pry you two out of the library," she rolled her eyes, "then maybe we can find something we'd all want to do."

"Right. Right!" Edward bobbed his head in agreement. "Okay, so we won't stay at the library too long and we'll do something after we get Al."

Winry shoved him. "You're not paying any attention to what I'm saying, are you?"

Holding his hands up in a placating manner, Edward grinned brightly. "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm a little distracted." _By more than just the hem of your dress_. "I'll try to do better, okay?"

Her mouth tightened for a few seconds and Winry followed up her shove with a poke in his chest. "You'd better, Ed. I told you this is my vacation. I want it to be a good one." With that, she turned away, her skirt flouncing, and Edward had to drag his eyes up again. Well, at least Winry hadn't noticed. He was pretty sure if she had, it wouldn't be a finger poking him in the chest but a wrench upside his skull.

"I'll do my best." Edward followed her, picking up his pace so he could catch up. Walking behind Winry just wasn't a good idea. "So, do you have any idea of what you wanna do?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll come up with something." Winry had one of those mysterious smiles on her face. Those never boded well.

"Yeah." Well, maybe whatever she had planned wouldn't be too bad. Edward could hope for that, at least.

* * *

There were so many beautiful flowers out when the sun shone like it did today. He watched through the window while working on an arrangement, Xing lilies mixed with baby's breath and fern. The lilies added an exotic hue to the commonplace baby's breath and the fern provided a complimentary backdrop to it all. He studied the display thoughtfully, turning the vase from side to side, deciding that the plants were arranged to his satisfaction.

A glint of metal caught his eye and he frowned, looking out the window. While the steel had caught his attention, the pale petals, nearly white, kept it. Rich gold complemented that dawn fair head, both of them rare; unusual. He stared after them thoughtfully, going so far as to leave his work area to exit the shop, standing on the stoop, watching after them until they left his sight by turning a corner.

The pang started soon after; too soon; the strange compulsion to uproot those flowers and set them in his own, private garden. Those two flowers wouldn't grow so well with metal beside them; it was too harsh. They needed pampering, to be rooted well, and when they reached their fullest blooms, he would make them into a bouquet the like of which he'd never been graced with before.

"You. Pat…Patsy." Yes, that was her name, that odd little girl who stared into his windows and got the glass smeared and smudged. "Do me a favor?"

"Yes, sir?" She trotted across the street, pushing her glasses up on her nose, her ruddy hair like a bristle brush around her head.

"Did you see those people who just passed by? With the armor?" He nodded down the street.

"Yes, sir." She nodded enthusiastically. "That was a big piece of armor, wasn't it? My daddy says - "

He interrupted quickly, smoothly. "I'm sure he what he says is important, Patsy, but I need you to go after them. I want you to find out where they're staying." They certainly weren't part of the regular town folk, he'd know them if they were. Visitors. Tourists. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out some sens, flashing them at the girl. Her brown eyes widened behind the glass. "If you can find that out, and bring me that information, this is yours as a reward. And," he stooped down, laying a hand on her bony shoulder, "I'll give you one of my special daisies as a present."

Her face brightened like a morning sun and she nodded so hard, he thought her head might fall off. "Yes, sir!"

Turning her in the right direction, he gave her a little push to start her on her way. "Don't tell them about me, all right? If they see you, tell them what your father says about armor." That would bore them to tears, he was sure.

Going back inside, he turned the sign on the door from 'open' to 'closed'. After all, he didn't want to waste any time. The girl would return soon. And in the meantime, he'd prepare a pair of special beds, so they'd be ready for his newest acquisitions.

* * *

"I can't believe you." Edward kicked at a rock, sending it skittering along the sidewalk to drop off the curb and into the street.

"What?" Alphonse couldn't help the cheerful note in his voice.

"You were…you weren't…gah!" Shoving his hands deep in his trouser pockets, Edward hunched his shoulders.

Next to him, Winry patted Alphonse's arm, making the metal ring softly. "Good for you, Alphonse."

"Admit it, Brother," knowing he was gloating, Alphonse said it anyway, "Lena's cute."

Edward made some inarticulate sound, stomping his feet. Winry grabbed his braid, giving it a quick yank. "Don't you damage your leg, too, Edward."

He jerked free, showing teeth over his shoulder like a rabid dog. "Don't you start, woman."

"Start? Start what? I was complementing Al on his taste in girls." Winry folded her arms, all but sticking her tongue out at Edward. Her expression brightened as she glanced up at Alphonse. "So, tell me about her, Al. Is she as nice as she seems?"

He nodded, metal squealing as he moved his head. "Uh, huh. Her dad's one of the town florists. She's interested in alchemy, too, that's why we started talking." Alphonse noted Edward's grumble became both more incoherent and louder. "Lena wants to go to places where it's hard to grow food and help make the land arable."

"That's cool, isn't it, Ed?" Winry seemed as determined to bring him back into the conversation as Edward was reluctant to join it. "What's that?" She cupped a hand to her ear. "Did you say 'that's a good idea and Lena is clever for coming up with it'?"

"He's probably jealous he didn't think of it, himself," Alphonse said, enjoying the way Edward's shoulders hunched and twitched.

Winry grinned wickedly. "Or just jealous that a cute girl's paying attention to you, Al."

"Oh, the hell I am." Edward whirled around, stalking back to them. "I don't care if Al flirts with some girl! He can flirt with every girl in this town, if he wants!"

"Really?" Alphonse loved the furious glare he got from his brother. Edward was too easy sometimes.

"See, Al, now you have your big brother's permission." Winry nodded, her smile turning smug at Edward's suddenly dumbfounded expression. "You go on back and talk to Lena. I'm going to do some work on Ed's arm." Walking past Edward, she called over her shoulder, "unless he wants to stand on the street and pout."

Edward's teeth showed again, his pulse pounding in his temple, his fists clenching. The veins stood out in his neck and Alphonse could hear the hydraulics in Edward's automail straining. "Don't break anything more, Brother, or Winry probably will charge you for this trip." With a cheerful wave, Alphonse spun on his heel, heading back the way they'd come, leaving his brother to steam, noticing but not really paying attention to the little girl with the frizzy hair, watching all of them intently.

* * *


	5. You Don't Bring Me Flowers

* * *

**Chapter 5**: You Don't Bring Me Flowers

Patsy hung around outside the hotel. The benches here were nice, with pretty flowers growing all around them. And no one noticed her sitting there. She swung her legs, watching the doorway. The armor had walked off and left the man and the woman, and they'd gone into the hotel. Patsy figured that she had a little while before she had to run back and tell Mr. Steinkuhl where they'd gone. Besides, it was really nice here, nicer than the place she lived. She tried to guess what it might be like inside the big building, with those revolving doors. Knowing better than to just walk into the hotel, Patsy contented herself with catching glimpses inside when the doors spun and watching the people entering and leaving the building.

It was fun to make up stories for those people, to think about where they might've come from. Patsy sat on the bench for a while doing that. This part of town was almost like a park, she thought, wishing she knew some kids who'd come here and play with her. They didn't like to play with a chubby girl with glasses, who couldn't run far or was too scared of being struck to hit a ball. That was why she looked through Mr. Steinkuhl's windows. His plants were so pretty, the prettiest that Patsy had ever seen.

She squirmed on the bench, smiling a little. And Mr. Steinkuhl had promised her one of those special daisies of his for finding out where the man and woman were staying! Hopping off the bench, Patsy started back toward Mr. Steinkuhl's shop, thinking where she could grow that daisy so everyone could see it.

* * *

"I can't believe Al just left us like that." Ed's grousing was starting to get on her nerves.

Winry rolled her eyes in response, making a minute adjustment to the gear in his elbow. "You've said that a half a dozen times."

Ed snorted in response, oblivious to her manipulation of his forearm as she checked the movement of his elbow joint. "That Lena, she looked like trouble. Did you see how she looked at Al? Like he was _edible_."

Screwdriver tucked into her mouth, Winry could say little more than, "Mmhmm."

"So you agree with me?" He was practically giddy at the prospect.

Taking the driver out of her mouth, Winry tightened a screw. "No, I couldn't say anything then." She wagged the screwdriver at him before setting it down to pick up a little oil can, squirting some of the lubricant on the gears in Ed's elbow. "Do you really want to know what I think?" Peering up at him through her bangs, Winry lifted her eyebrows questioningly.

As if he could read her thoughts, Edward made a grumpy sound. "No." His lower lip pooched out. "You think it's cute, don't you."

"What's wrong with Al having a crush on someone?" Returning the oil can to the table she'd commandeered, Winry reached for her large, flathead screwdriver. The movement in Ed's wrist was sloppy and while she had him torn down, she could work on tightening that up. "Or some girl having a crush on him? If I didn't know Al, I'd have a crush on him."

Ed whipped around so fast at that, Winry was surprised he didn't get a crick in his neck. "You what?!"

"You heard me. And hold still. If you jerk your arm like that again, the pin might come out." Winry's cross look was deflected by Edward's open mouthed surprise. "Did you hear me?"

"You'd have a crush on my little brother?" The question came out in a strangled groan.

"If I didn't know him. Honestly, Ed, you're not paying attention." She rapped the flat edge of her screwdriver against his forearm.

"Huh?" His face screwed up, speaking far more eloquently than his grunt. "Are you saying because you know him, you wouldn't have a crush on Al?"

Breaking the screw free that connected Ed's hand to his wrist, Winry grinned in delight. "I grew up with Al." She shrugged, absent minded, lost in the connections in Ed's forearm, trying to figure out why the movement in his wrist was so loose.

"Yeah, so?" The hesitation got Winry's attention and she glanced up from the inner workings of the wrist mechanism. Brow furrowed, mouth tight, jaw flexing, Ed gave her a look that Winry couldn't decipher before he asked, "Are you saying he isn't good enough?"

Somehow, she thought that wasn't the question Ed really wanted to ask. "He's plenty good enough, he's just…Al." Shrugging again, not really wanting to say more, Winry bent her head. "Whatever you did to your wrist, Ed," her voice trailed off warningly.

"I didn't do anything!" The hasty yelp meant she'd distracted him and Winry smiled to herself. While she could admit privately that she loved Ed, she wasn't ready to let him know that yet.

"You were in the hospital, Ed, and I was asked to meet you to repair your automail. How is that not doing 'anything'?" Brandishing her screwdriver, Winry was pleased to see Ed's eyes following it and his larynx bob as he gulped. Yeah, that definitely distracted him. All she had to do was keep him that way.

"It's not my fault! That bastard colonel sent me on the mission, if you're gonna blame someone, blame him!" Ed leaned as far away from her as he could without taking his arm off the tabletop.

"He told you to damage the hydraulics?" Winry flexed his wrist for emphasis. "Do you hear that whining sound, Edward? Your wrist should not sound like this."

"So? Fix it!" Scowling, Ed's lower lip jutted out.

"I will!" They exchanged glares, neither willing to be the first to break eye contact. Winry suddenly stuck her tongue out at Ed, a childish display, but it made him snort in response, shaking his head. "Next time," she said, going on as if they hadn't interrupted the discussion with a little spat, "pay attention when your arm makes this noise." Manipulating the joint again, Winry gave Ed a pointed look. He rolled his eyes but nodded. "Honestly, Ed, it's a good thing you've got loads of money for your automail. This kind of work would cost…well…a lot in Rush Valley."

"But not in Conway?" Ed showed his teeth, obviously thinking his joke was funny.

Winry managed to keep from sighing in response. "You're getting off cheap paying for my ticket out here."

"And your room. And your board." Leaning his chin in his flesh palm, Ed muttered, "Don't know why the bastard didn't put us in a military hotel."

"Because this is much nicer." The rooms Winry usually stayed in with the brothers barely compared to this place, though she did wonder at the instructions to stay at this particular hotel.

Ed snorted eloquently. "More expensive."

"You weren't complaining when you were picking stuff out of the fruit basket to eat!" Winry set down the screwdriver and picked up a seven-sixteenths socket wrench.

"That's food." Scoffing, Ed glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Food makes it different?" Fitting the socket around a bolt, Winry broke it loose, the racheting sound comforting in its familiarity.

"Food always makes it different." There was a surety in Ed's voice that made Winry shake her head. He shifted his body without moving his arm, something he'd had a great deal of practice in over the years. "Did you even try one of those apples?"

"Not yet."

Ed stretched his legs out in front of him. "They're great. So are the plums."

"Maybe I'll try one when I get done here." Winry made a pleased little sound as his wrist loosened up a little more. "Which might be just a few minutes more." She could see into the inner mechanisms now. There was a leak, which explained why the hydraulics weren't working properly and Ed's wrist was so loose. Repairing the leak, Winry did a thorough maintenance of Ed's automail, making sure everything was lubricated, tightened or loosened as necessary. "So," glancing Ed's way, she bent her head to her task again, "I'm almost done here. What do you want to do?"

"Eh." Shrugging his flesh shoulder, he turned his attention to her. "Well, you didn't get a good meal last night. You wanna go try to find a restaurant?"

Was Ed blushing? No, it had to be the light. Winry focused on the last screw as she drove it home. "Yeah. That could be…nice." Darting a look Ed's way, she saw the faint smile on his face, the warm light in his eyes. Her gaze dropped back to his arm and she set down her screwdriver, picking up a burnishing cloth and tossing it to Ed. "Get cleaned up and I'll go change." Winry couldn't help the giddy feeling as she got to her feet though she did refrain from skipping across the room. Ed would think she was nuts.

As Winry left the room, Edward finished wiping the excess oil from his arm. He started to toss the cloth on the table, thought better of it, and folded it neatly, placing it on top of Winry's portable tool chest. It always amazed him how easily she could lug that thing around. Tools were heavy, as he knew, especially since that old hag of a grandmother liked to use him for grunt labor when he was back in Rezembool. It was kind of weird to think how strong Winry must be, physically, when she looked like someone could snap her like a twig.

Wincing at the connotations of that particular image, Edward set his chair back under the table. He thought for a few seconds of tidying up the tools but figured Winry had a specific place for each of them. Far be it for him to put some ratchet in the slot where the screwdrivers were supposed to go. Even worse would be listening about it later.

Shaking off the weird mood, Edward headed for the bedroom he shared with Al. A funny little grin tried to form and he forced a scowl instead. This wasn't a date. It wasn't. They were a couple of friends going to get some food. _Without Al_, the little voice inside his head sounded suspiciously like that bastard, Mustang, _It's a date_.

"Is not," Edward growled in response, closing the door behind him. Still, he stood in the room for a few seconds, wondering if he ought to take a shower first. A surreptitious sniff under his flesh arm told him he didn't stink or anything, but did he actually smell? It wasn't like he could go bang on the door to Winry's room and ask her, after all. She'd think he was crazy. The bastard's voice returned. _If you have to ask, you ought to take a shower_. "Aww, man." _You want to be clean and…shiny…don't you?_

Grumbling Xingese curses picked up from that old geezer, Fuu, Edward dug in his suitcase for his canvas trousers and stiff-collared shirt. A clean pair of boxers and socks were added to the pile. "Can't believe I'm doing this for Winry." He completely ignored the bastard's stupid voice in his head and the suggestion that he might want to shave and splash on aftershave to the list of things to do prior to leaving the bathroom. What did the stupid little voice know, anyway? Hell, too much, probably. "Dammit." Edward rubbed his palm across his chin, thinking that facial hair wasn't that great of a thing. He scowled at the idea that a beard would make him look like Hohenheim. That was one thing he never wanted. Bad enough that that bastard thought he wore his hair the same way.

With a full-body shudder, Edward gathered up his clothes, stomping out of the bedroom. "I'm taking a shower," he announced to the empty room, loud enough that Winry could hear it behind her closed door, and slammed himself into the bathroom, the door rattling on its hinges.

Poking her head out of her room, Winry frowned at the bathroom door, still shivering in its frame from impact. Ed was lucky he hadn't cracked the plaster. Wagging her head, she retreated back into her room, wondering, "Why am I in love with such a weirdo?"

* * *

The little girl's information had come at a very good price, he thought, tapping his fingers lightly on the planting table. A flower, nothing too extravagant, a gerbera daisy in a rich salmon color and fifty sens. Very worthwhile, knowing where he might be able to pick a new flower for his garden. The fact that the man in the suit of armor had gone off on his own was also noteworthy and worked well for his plans. Now, he simply had to close up shop….

The sound interrupted his thoughts and his brow creased infinitesimally. The drumming of his fingertips on the table increased as he shot a look toward the door. One of the daisies he'd plucked was becoming wakeful and he'd need to deal with it before starting his quest. It wouldn't do to leave such a thing unresolved, after all. Strange noises sometimes attracted attention. It was a good thing his hired help was so hard of hearing.

Going to the doorway, he switched the sign from 'open' to closed, carefully locking the door. He pulled the shades down, though the sunlight was good for the plants. For this type of work, shadow was better; perhaps even more appropriate. He didn't consider that thought long, almost moving by rote. The shop front taken care of to his satisfaction, he moved further inside, closing behind him the door that led to the interior and Mrs. Thiry.

There were tables, of course, with plants carefully set upon them to catch the rays of the sun coming from overhead. The warmth in the room could be stifling come full summer but right now, it was pleasant enough. Bags of soil and fertilizer were stacked along the wall, near a darkened doorway that led to the basement. More fertilizer was stored downstairs, out of the direct heat, and it was here that he planned his special garden. The staff, consisting of one elderly woman, was unable to travel the length of the stairs and was nearly deaf, as well. Mrs. Thiry was, he thought, absolutely perfect with her pottering around and watering the plants, mumbling to herself. He sent her on her way for the evening, reminding her to mind the strangers in town. Paranoia in the elderly assisted him in his acquisition of – and retention of - some of his flowers, after all. Why, she'd alerted him that the police were searching for one of his newest daisies, the one with the pale petals. It was truly amazing what you could learn from gossip.

After making sure Mrs. Thiry was truly gone and not likely to return for a forgotten scrap or knitting or whatever it was that took up her time when she wasn't in his shop, he shut off the upstairs lights and started into the basement. Down here, the coolness of the earth seeped into his skin and he took a deep, cleansing breath. The tangy scent of fertilizer, the rich smells of loam and peat, the all coalesced into one fragrance that tickled his nose. He couldn't help but smile as he made his way through the dim room, the only light coming from a few windows scattered about at ground level. Shifting a pair of barrels out of his way, he pressed lightly on the hidden latch, opening the door into the next room.

Switching on the lights, he made his way into the room, one that mirrored in many ways the work room upstairs with its many tables and bags of earth. The fertilizer here was different but he was the only one to know that. There was still a faint chemical smell and the whiff of quicklime but he was accustomed to those scents and, of course, the most amazing bouquet of all, drifting to him from the flower waiting for him.

Her petals were a hue close to rust, rich and shiny brown, tumbling down the stem in luxuriant curls. Eyes dark as a black-eyed susan's widened at the sight of him. "Why are you holding me here!" She struggled against the florist wires holding her to the planter's stake. "I can pay you money. That's what you want, right? You have to let me go!"

Humming to himself, he went to get his tools, unlocking the cabinet where he kept them. He tested the shears and set them back inside, thinking he wouldn't need them for this particular plant.

"Wh-what are you doing?" She thumped against the stake. "I have money. I do. I can get it for you. Just let me go and I'll get it. No one…I won't tell anyone that I was here."

_My, but she is noisy_. He continued humming, a little louder, trying to block out the sound of her rustling. The flensing blade came out and he rubbed the ball of his thumb over the edge, pleased when a pearl of blood rose off his skin. Setting it on the tabletop next to him, he took out another blade, this one originally made of an old file, with a handle at each end. It flexed slightly and would be used to smooth the pulp from the stalk. The next blade was short and pointed and edged on both sides with a sharp tip. It was his favorite. He held it up over his head, smiling at the Xingese craftsmanship. The blade almost looked as if a waterfall was caught in it, with the design work in the surface of the metal. The light sparkled off of it and she fell silent except for a gasp.

He turned to her, smiling.

"No." Her little mouth moved in such interesting ways as she thumped against her stake. "No, you can't. You…you can't!" She struggled, her curling petals flying as she jerked her stem around, trying to break free. "No! Help me." She looked from the knife to the doorway behind him. "Someone please help me!"

"Shh," he crooned, catching her forehead in his hand and pressing it back against the stake. "It'll be all over soon."

* * *


	6. Pluck Not the Wayside Flower

* * *

**Chapter 6**: Pluck Not the Wayside Flower

* * *

It was a beautiful afternoon; the sun shining down, the sky clear. A breeze blew softly, making the trees rustle and the flowers sway, and rearranging the dark, curly tresses of the girl sitting next to him. Alphonse wished he could breathe in and smell the flowers. Surely the scent of them would be strong. He wanted to reach out and touch Lena's hair, find out if it was as soft as it looked. Putting aside such desires, he turned his attention back to Lena's words as she drew him a transmutation circle she'd been working on.

"I see." He studied the circle, thinking that it ought to work just fine, though he never actually dealt with green alchemy before. Even his father's books dealt more with inanimate objects and the transmutation of the same. "This looks really good, Lena."

"Thanks, Al." She beamed at the praise. "Alchemists don't spend a lot of time in Conway, so it's kind of hard to learn this stuff on my own. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me about it."

"It's no problem, really." Al held up a hand to stall her thanks. "You're doing me a favor. Brother and Winry, well, sometimes their favorite thing to do is to argue. It gets tiring, listening to that." At her sympathetic smile, he went on. "Not that they aren't good people, it's just that, well," he smoothed his horsehair crest in place of scratching the back of his neck. "I think they frustrate each other and the only way they can get it out is by bickering."

Lena's eyes brightened at that and she covered her mouth in an attempt to hold back a giggle. It failed, entrancing Al. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "It's kind of cute, isn't it? I mean, I could see that they like each other."

"Shh, don't tell them that." Al wagged his head. "I think they're both a little dense when it comes down to it."

"Aww." Lena patted him, making Al look down at her hand, so small on the greave that made up his forearm. "That's too bad."

"They'll figure it out." Al figured Winry might have already figured it out, anyway, which just left Edward and he wasn't stupid, though Al wondered how much of that ignorance might be his brother not wanting to get involved with Winry while it was still so dangerous. _Or because of me._ Determined not to think that way, he carefully patted Lena's hand. "In the mean time, do you want to go for a walk? You can show me some of the sights of Conway."

"Sure." Lena dimpled, keeping her hand on Al's greave. "There are all sorts of places I could show you."

"I'd like that a lot," he told her, wishing he could feel her touch.

* * *

The sun was still brilliant in the sky, though definitely falling to the west when they left the hotel. Winry thought that Ed looked good, even if he was still wearing black. At least his shirt was different from the one he usually wore, though she thought she recognized it from when he and Al had seen her off at the Central train station. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd changed it by alchemy, then decided he wouldn't have – Ed and any type of fashion had to be complete strangers to one another. Lucky for him, she thought, he looked good in black. It made his hair and eyes seem brighter. Fortunately, he was tanned, too, otherwise he'd look like a weirdo.

Winry couldn't help but notice the girls eyeing Ed as they walked together. She might as well have been invisible for the attention she got. Mentally shaking her head, Winry wondered why it bothered her. Ed didn't notice girls, not that way. He didn't even notice her that way but for all she knew, Ed hadn't even realized she was female yet. She doubted he'd found a girl on his travels – one of the brothers would've mentioned a girl, surely. Frowning, Winry reconsidered. Maybe they wouldn't. Still, the idea of Ed with a girlfriend…wooing a girl, it was just…wrong.

It wasn't that Ed hadn't, well…matured. Certainly he was still the same old argumentative Ed but since they were in Central City, she'd noticed some changes. He apologized for not telling her about Mr. Hughes straight out, rather than letting her read it in the paper in his room. He'd comforted her that night, as best he knew how. He'd protected her from that man in the alley; had offered her comfort then, too, if only for a few seconds before he had to run off to his fight. Even after that, though, Ed and Al had told her about her parents and had taken care of her until she got the call to return to Rush Valley and her customers.

"What?" Ed asked suddenly, grumpily, startling her out of her thoughts.

"What, what?" Winry hoped he hadn't realized she was staring at him. _Stupid, stupid_.

The corner of his mouth turned down. "You were staring at me."

"I was not." Winry hoped he'd buy her bluff.

"Just tell me if I've got something stupid on my face." Ed rubbed his cheek with his automail hand. "I mean, that'd be great, go into a restaurant with shaving cream or something…."

"Shaving cream?" Winry realized she'd stopped when a pair of girls had to go around her, giving her matching glares for being in the way. "You shaved?"

"Damn, Winry," Ed rubbed his ear, his face screwed up. "Any louder and you might break glass."

"I didn't know you," she swallowed the rest of that sentence. Certainly Ed was old enough to shave. She just hadn't thought about him doing something like that. Something adult. _But you're not a kid anymore, either_. "I didn't know you needed to."

Ed shrugged, a virulent sneer on his face. "I'm never growing a beard. I don't want to look like that bastard." His hand sneaked back to smooth his braid.

"I don't like beards anyway. Too scratchy." Winry wrinkled her nose at the idea of Ed with a beard; of kissing a guy with a beard. Elicia had complained about Mr. Hughes' beard roughing up her face.

"All the more reason," Ed snapped his mouth shut abruptly and he shot Winry a look from the corner of his eye.

"All the more reason?" It looked like Ed was blushing. Ed, blushing? Because they were carrying on in the street? Or…no, it couldn't be. Ed wouldn't be thinking _that_, would he? No, surely it had to do with his dad. Winry mentally shook her head. Ed wouldn't be thinking about getting so close that a possible beard might scratch her. Could he? "Ed?"

"What?" There was that growl and he wouldn't look at her. Not fully, at least. God, he was such a pain!

"All the more reason what?" Winry tucked her hands behind her back, inclining her body toward Ed.

"All the more reason you're driving me crazy!" Ed flung his hands up. "Aren't you hungry? We were going to get food. That's what I remember. I'm hungry. I'm getting food. Are you coming or not?" He stomped off while talking, leaving Winry to stare at his back for a few seconds.

Realizing he wasn't waiting, Winry trotted after him. "Ed. Edward! Wait up!"

* * *

She moved like a petal on the wind, all flowing and graceful, as she caught up to the other one. Singularly, each one would be a prize but together, they were extraordinary. His fingers moved into the pocket of his vest, touching something there, reaffirming it remained where he'd last left it.

It was time to harvest.

* * *

"Edward! Winry!"

Edward hunched his shoulders, grimacing at the sound of his name.

"It's Mr. Heubner," Winry said, glancing back to smile and wave at him.

The young man checked the street and crossed it at a jog, stopping next to Winry. "What are you two up to?" He glanced around. "Where's Alphonse?"

"He's on a date." Edward bit out the words, hoping Tony would get the picture.

"Really? Good for him. Conway's a good town for dates." Tony patted Edward's shoulder, smiling at Winry, ignoring his own hint.

Edward did his best not to snarl at the taller man, moving out from under Tony's hand. "Is that so?" He grunted as Winry's elbow found its way unerringly into his ribs. She glared at him and Edward glowered back. She wasn't going to invite Tony along, was she?

"Ed and I were just going to get something to eat." Winry's elbow poked Edward again and he ground his teeth together rather than reacting vocally.

"Oh, yeah?" Tony smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Why don't you two come with me? I can show you a really nice place to eat. Anne," here, his face fell a little, but he forged ahead, forcing a grin, "Anne really liked it there." With a wink at Winry, he whispered loudly, "It's a good date restaurant."

Winry had the grace to blush, which just made it worse in Edward's eyes. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Even if it had been a date – and Edward still wasn't sure if he wanted to call it that or not. Weren't they friends getting dinner? – this Tony guy had just horned in on it. "Yeah?" Edward dodged Winry's elbow this time. "You want to tell us where it is?"

"Oh, it's easier if I take you there." Tony had a sharp smile on his face, kind of like the one that bastard, Mustang, wore when he was so sure he was going to get his way. Bending his elbow, he gave Winry a nicer grin. "Winry? Would you care to walk with me?"

She was still red-faced. Edward fought to roll his eyes when she giggled and slipped her hand through Tony's arm. What the hell was she thinking? He'd been the one to ask her out, not this stranger. Okay, so he'd never actually said it was a date but that shouldn't matter. He'd asked Winry to dinner and here this jerk was, horning in.

"Ed, are you coming?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, yeah." Trailing behind Winry, Edward realized he was staring at her backside again. Well, at least Al wasn't here to tease him about it this time. Raising his head, Edward met Tony's eyes, the man giving him a knowing nod. _Oh, hell_. Jaw flexing, Edward glared at Tony, hating that the man smiled brilliantly and turned back to Winry, saying something in her ear that made her giggle. "What?"

"What?" Tony glanced back over his shoulder again.

"What did you just say to Winry?" Edward's hands clenched in his pockets.

"Edward!" Winry shook her head at him. "Honestly, I don't know what gets into you some times." Her hand tightened on Tony's arm. "Ignore him, Mr. Huebner." A blue eye glittered at Edward briefly then vanished as Winry faced the older man again. "His manners…." Her voice trailed off.

"It's all right, Winry." Tony patted her fingers. "I understand what Edward's going through right now, really." He gave her that smile again and Edward realized that sound was coming from his grinding teeth.

"Yeah? What about you? Have you heard anything more about Anne?" At Winry's horrified expression, Edward realized maybe he'd pushed too far. Still, he didn't back down or offer any apologies.

Winry opened her mouth, ready to say something, but Tony cut her off by raising his hand. He unwound her fingers from his arm. "Edward, I'm sorry. It seems I've done something to upset you." Tony was tall, nearly as tall as Havoc, but Edward was pretty sure he could cut him down to size. "I apologize for that."

Edward folded his arms. "That doesn't answer the question, Tony." Sneer back in place, he ignored Winry's furious glare, even though it felt like her eyes were burning holes in his head. "I don't have anything against you personally." Winry made a noise deep in her throat and Edward managed to ignore that, too. "I just know that if anything happened to Winry; if she _disappeared_, I wouldn't be offering to show a couple of kids a place to eat. Eating would be the last thing on my mind. I'd want to find her. I'd want to know she was safe. I would be calling the police stations and putting up posters and talking to every person I saw until I knew where she was. And then," he took a step closer to Tony, snarling up at him, "I'd go to her in person and make sure myself that she was okay. Because that's what you do when you care about someone. You don't just forget that your girlfriend is missing to escort people to a restaurant."

"I've seen the police." Speaking in a low hiss, Tony closed some of the space between them. "They're not any farther along than they were previously. They don't have any more information to give me. No one knows what happened to Anne, Edward. No one."

Tony may have towered over Edward but he wasn't going to back down. More teeth showing, Edward moved nearer to Tony, his arms uncrossing, his hands fisting. "Maybe you're what happened to her, Tony. Maybe you brought her here and you did something to her." Hearing Winry's incredulous gasp, Edward wished she wasn't here, wasn't hearing this. He wanted to protect her from this sort of ugliness. Still, it had to be said and, tellingly, Tony's face was bleaching bone white as Edward spoke. "You said yourself no one knew either of you here. Maybe you're the one who made her vanish."

Eyebrow slanting up into his bangs, Tony's mouth pursed. "You are a very dedicated young man, I'll give you that." He broke eye contact to glance at Winry, giving her a reassuring smile that made a red haze come down over Edward's vision. "It's okay, Winry," he said, patting the air, as if that would do anything. His attention totally focused on her, Tony took a step back from Edward. "You're quite a lucky young lady."

Winry's puzzled frown deepened. "Thanks." The 'I think' might have well been tacked onto the end of that one word.

"Edward, you're right. I should be trying to find Anne rather than sending you two off to dinner." His mouth twitching, Tony indicated a street with the jerk of his chin. "That way. It's a little family run place, has the best steak I've had in a long time. You ought to check it out." He raised his hand in farewell and started off down the street.

Winry let Tony get a half a block away before rounding on Edward. "What was that all about?" There was a glint in her eye that let Edward know if she had her wrench, he'd be nursing a minor concussion right now.

"You don't actually trust that guy, do you?" Edward waved a hand off after Tony. "C'mon, Winry, he's probably the best suspect for whatever happened to Anne. I mean, Hughes told me one time that most…" his voice trailed off and Edward shook his head, not wanting to continue that train of thought.

"He hasn't given me any reason not to trust him." Winry started walking in the direction Tony had indicated.

Edward opened his mouth then shut it abruptly. From the stiff way she held her shoulders, Winry was pissed. "Hey." He jogged after her, catching up and taking her arm, letting go when she tried to pull free. Winry whipped around, her expression furious and Edward held up his hands, trying to forestall her yelling. "I've never given you reason not to trust me, have I?" He searched her face, hoping he wouldn't see any doubt.

Her mouth tightened a little though she didn't look away. "No."

Carefully, not sure he really wanted to hear the answer but willing to take the risk, Edward asked, "And you trust me more than you do Tony, right?"

"Yes," there was no hesitation in Winry's response, making something stretched tight in Edward's chest sag in relief, "but I don't think he had anything to do with Anne disappearing, Ed. He isn't you, that's all. You can look in his eyes and see how much he misses her, how worried he is. Just because he's not running through the streets like a maniac doesn't mean he isn't worried."

Edward considered reminding her that he hadn't been the one to run into the middle of a battle but realized he'd been the one to pick the fight in the first place. That probably made it a bad example to bring up. "Fine," he said with an aggrieved sigh, "he's worried about Anne. And doing what he can to find her." His stomach growled abruptly and Edward's cheeks heated up. "Uh…"

"I heard. We'll get something to eat." Winry pursed her mouth. "At the restaurant Mr. Huebner suggested."

She wouldn't back down on that, Edward knew, nodding in resignation. "Fine. Where was it again?"

Winry smiled, that particular, brilliant smile, and waved her hand down the street. "This way."

And as Edward followed her, he could swear he heard that bastard Mustang, saying, "_You are so whipped_."

* * *

He followed at a distance, not too far back, but it didn't seem either of the two was paying much attention to their surroundings. Too involved in each other; courting more in the ways of birds than flowers. He noticed the indulgent smiles of the passersby. They probably thought it was cute. At least it kept the two of them together.

That made them easier for the picking.

* * *


	7. Plucking Her Petals

* * *

**Chapter 7**: Plucking Her Petals

Ed sighed gustily, leaning back in his chair, with his eyes half-closed and a satiated smile on his face. "That was good."

Nodding in agreement, Winry almost wished she was wearing a belt she could loosen. The food had been better than good, it had been amazing. No wonder Anne had liked this restaurant. Winry thought she could eat here every night, if there was a way they could afford it. The meal was pretty expensive, after all – well, a lot more expensive than she'd expected. In fact, Winry was surprised Ed agreed to stay after getting a look at the prices. He'd even waved off her offer of paying for her meal, giving her a sidelong grin and reminding her he'd asked her to join him for dinner. Winry was tempted to ask who he was and what he'd done with Edward Elric but decided against it. She'd already blown up at Ed once and started a fight – and Ed, in turn, started one with Mr. Huebner. That was enough for one day, especially without Al around to remind them that they were too old for this sort of thing.

Winry squirmed a little at that idea. It really wasn't arguing, was it? But if it wasn't, she didn't know what to call it. Flirting came to mind but Winry wasn't sure it was that at all. It really was the way she and Ed talked to each other. Not all the time, obviously, but it always seemed that if she didn't half-yell something at him, he didn't hear it. Mr. Garfiel had told her once a whisper caught the attention more but Winry was afraid if she spoke softly, Ed would never pay attention. He certainly didn't hear anything when his nose was in a book and Winry hated to think she took second place to a stupid alchemy text.

Immediately, she felt bad thinking that. Ed needed the information the books had to help him find a way to get Al his body back. That was the reason for their journey; why they'd burned down their house and left Rezembool behind. And she'd promised Ed she'd help him – help them – any way she could, even if it was just to get better at making Ed's automail. Ed seemed to appreciate that, at least.

"You're too quiet."

Winry blinked, startled out of her thoughts by Ed's voice. "Just thinking." She glanced across the table at him, noting his concerned scowl was in place. "Nothing bad."

"I don't know how you can think at all." Ed groaned, patting his stomach. "All I want to do now is sleep."

Not saying anything about how much Ed had eaten – he'd ordered appetizers, the meal came with a salad and three side dishes, not to mention Ed had insisted on trying her food and her dessert – Winry dabbed her napkin against her mouth. "We should probably go for a walk to help us digest this meal."

Giving her a plaintive whine, Ed slumped a little deeper into his chair. "A walk?"

"Better than napping." Winry dropped her napkin back in her lap. "Besides, it's a pretty night, isn't it?" She nodded at the window and the night outside of it. The moon was close to full and the streetlights held a warm glow. It would be a nice night for a stroll.

"Eegh."

Winry shot him a look that made Ed scowl back. Obviously, the idea of parading around town wasn't appealing to him but Winry didn't just want to go back to the hotel and…do what? Watch while he hurried off to his bedroom to sleep? That wouldn't be much fun. Of course, if they did everything fun now, what would they do for the rest of the time they were supposed to be here? She guessed that maybe they could leave the city after all; go somewhere else. Ed and Al were used to going everywhere and, to an extent, Winry had grown accustomed to it as well. But it would be nice to explore Conway without feeling rushed. "Just a little walk?"

"We're gonna walk back to the hotel." Ed's face screwed into a pout. "Isn't that far enough?"

"But we've already walked that way. Don't you want to explore?"

Whining, Edward flopped his elbows on the table, folding his arms in front of him. "Winry, I'm tired."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "You're such a slug."

"I promise." His chair slid back until Ed could rest his cheek on his forearms, peeping out of his shaggy bangs at her. "Tomorrow, I'll go on a long walk with you. 'Til we both get blisters and Al has to carry us back to the hotel."

The image made her giggle, bringing an answering grin to Ed's face. "All right." Winry picked up her drink, sipping at it in an attempt to keep from laughing.

Snorting, Edward pushed upright in his chair, hands falling into his lap. He nodded at the waiter who brought over the bill in a leather folder, accepting it and opening it. Winry was surprised he didn't flinch, just wrote something down, signing his name. The little smirk made her mouth purse in response but when Ed stood up, Winry followed his lead. They walked out of the restaurant together, that smirk turning into a wicked grin as they pushed through the doors.

"What is it? What did you do?" Winry socked his arm for emphasis.

"Ow! Dammit, woman, stop being so violent." Edward gnashed his teeth at her, reminding her of a little bulldog. Not that Winry would tell him that, drawing back her fist, ready to hit him again. "All right! Don't hit." His sneer firmly back in place, Ed tossed his hand back at the restaurant. "I signed Colonel Bastard's name to the tab. Left a hefty tip, too."

Winry rolled her eyes. "You're a brat, Ed."

He whistled a sharp little note, giving her a sly glance. "Eh." Ed's shoulders rose in a shrug as he tucked his hands in his pockets. "He's the one who sent me here, he should pay for a little of it."

"That meal wasn't 'a little'." Winry couldn't hide her smile and Ed noticed it, his grin broadening.

He nudged her arm with his elbow. "It is a little. Trust me."

"Don't tell me you've done this before." Stopping on the sidewalk, Winry planted her hands on her hips. "Edward. That's…mean!"

Ed's snicker wasn't at all reassuring. "It's funny, Winry. You can see that, right? The bastard sends me places, I charge him for my food." At her look, he rolled his eyes, his mouth skewing sideways. "Not all the time. Just once in a while. Hey, it's not like he doesn't take advantage of me, too."

"I probably don't want to know." Winry let out a sigh through her teeth, taking the few steps necessary to return to Ed's side.

"You sure? Some of them are good stories." He twisted his body so he was tipping a grin up at her.

Winry rolled her eyes. "I'd just bet."

Ed continued to cajole her about the tales he could tell as they walked back to the hotel. Winry almost thought she should let him – Ed offering up stories wasn't exactly a regular occurrence – but she decided it might be a good idea to have Al around, too, to corroborate. "You don't believe me?" He seemed almost hurt at the idea.

"You are known to lie, Ed." Tipping her nose up slightly, her smug expression was marred by the giggle escaping her mouth.

Ed bared his teeth. "Stretching the truth and I only do that when absolutely necessary – hey." Brows furrowing, he studied the man at the corner, beckoning at them.

"What do you think he wants?" Winry couldn't help but notice his furtive air, the way the man was glancing over his shoulder, looking around him nervously.

"Wait here." Ed touched her arm above her elbow, stiffening when she made a rude noise. "Winry, would you just do what I say for once?"

"Edward, I can take care of myself." She just managed not to fold her arms.

"Fine." He huffed, glaring at her. "But be careful, okay?" Something in his expression changed, far too fleeting for Winry to be able to read it. "And stay close." He hesitated, a weird, hopeful little grin crossing his face. "You wouldn't have one of your wrenches on you, would you?"

"We're on a," Winry hesitated before saying the word 'date'. Was it a date? Did Ed want it to be? Was he just thinking that he wanted food and Al wasn't around, so it'd just be him and her going out? "I don't have a wrench," she finished, sounding a little awkward.

"Damn." Lips thinning, Ed raised his hand to show the man that he'd been noticed. "I mean it, Winry. Stay behind me, okay? And if something weird happens – get the hell out of here."

Winry fell in behind Ed as he walked toward the man. His hands weren't shoved into his pockets, his steps were slow and even. Winry tried to match him, wishing she had figured a way to bring a wrench with her. The solid weight would feel good in her palm right about now.

The man smiled in relief as they approached. "I'm so glad I found you." He continued glancing around him though, giving lie to his words. "Before…well, you know."

"No, we don't know." Ed stopped a good ways back from the man; his feet spread slightly, his hands making loose fists. "What are you talking about?"

"Your friend? That tall fellow?" The man hunched his shoulders. "He frightens me."

"Alphonse?" Well, he was scary looking, Winry would agree to that, but anyone who knew Al would've…all right, he could be imposing.

"The one looking for his girlfriend." The man stood on his toes, peering past them. His paranoia was infectious and Winry glanced back the way she and Edward had come, not seeing anything. "He's," the man swallowed, "dangerous. You should be very careful around him."

Ed shot Winry a look that obviously meant, 'see?' "Why?"

"His girlfriend." The man sighed heavily. "I…I can take you to her. Where she is, I mean. If you want to go?" Sidling sideways, he glanced down the narrow street. "I have a car waiting."

Winry lay her hand on Ed's arm when he glared at the man, obviously not willing to move from where he stood. If they could find Anne, wouldn't it be for the best? "Ed, maybe we should go with him."

Ed didn't turn away from the man as he said, "I don't want you to come with us."

The man shifted his weight onto his toes again. "Maybe…she should come." He wet his lips. "The girl…she's scared. Might be best to have another girl."

She took a step forward, only to have Ed block her from moving any closer. "Ed!"

He hissed at her, his eyes molten hot. "Why don't you go get the police?"

"Whatever you decide." The man gave the impression of running though he stood still. "But we need to go now." His voice pitched higher as he spoke. "I don't know how much longer he'll keep her there!"

With a growl, Ed cut his eyes to Winry. "Go on, get the police. I'll go with this guy." As she started to turn away, Edward caught her wrist. "Be careful."

"Mm." Winry bobbed her head, hating that she missed the feel of Ed's hand on her arm as soon as he let her go. That touch made her feel a little less anxious. Taking a few steps away, she glanced around, wondering if she could find an officer patrolling the area. What if she couldn't? Did she remember seeing a telephone booth? What if something happened to Ed? Spinning back around, she grabbed his pigtail, making him screech in pain. "I'm going with you."

"Winry!" Ed jerked free, losing strands of hair in the process. "Don't be an idiot. This could be dangerous. I'm not letting you - "

He never got to finish his sentence from the heavy stick crashing down on his head. With a grunt, Ed dropped to his knees, his expression stunned. Winry felt as if she'd been turned to stone as the man slammed the stick against Ed's shoulders, beating him down onto the alley floor. When Ed tried to rise, his limbs twitching, gathering themselves for the effort, the stick swung down again, cutting through the air with a whistle. Winry could smell the blood, felt her stomach twist and her mouth run with salt water. Lips parting to scream, fingers curling into claws, she froze as the cudgel spun her way. Blood and a few strands of golden hair marred the end of it.

"Don't make a sound," the man panted, "not a word. Or I'll kill him right now."

* * *


	8. Flowers Are Without Hope

* * *

**Chapter 8**: Flowers Are Without Hope

* * *

Alphonse climbed the stairs to the hotel room, rapping lightly at the door before unlocking it. "I'm home," he called, ducking his head to enter the suite. "I hope you guys had a good time today. Brother, Lena's got some fantastic transmutation arrays for doing green alchemy. I thought you might want to see them. Maybe we can go over there tomorrow?" Closing the door, Alphonse slowly turned around, not hearing a return greeting. Not hearing anything, when it came down to it. "Brother? Winry?" He took a step deeper into the suite.

Surely they hadn't…no, Alphonse took a quick glance at both bedroom doors, standing open. A sense of relief was followed by a rumbled groan of irritation. Edward hadn't taken Winry to the library, had he? Again? "Brother, even you aren't that much of an idiot, are you?"

Checking the suite out offered no clues. There were no notes left behind. The dishes in the sink were clean. Winry's toolkit was back in her room and Alphonse checked the room he and Edward were sharing. Edward's red coat hung in the closet, his usual clothes were heaped on the floor. If Alphonse could have widened his eyes in surprise, he would have. There was evidence Ed had used a handkerchief to shine his boots.

"Did you actually take Winry on a date?"

The words hung in the air for a few seconds before Alphonse realized he had 'spoken' aloud. That was difficult, of course; not actually speaking when he wanted to keep his thoughts to himself. When you didn't have a mouth to close, keeping secrets became very difficult. Thinking out loud was a hazard. Fortunately, Alphonse had learned to contain his thoughts rather than 'voice' them – at least for the most part. "Whatever." It still didn't help him find his brother or Winry. Maybe they'd left word at the front desk?

Alphonse went back downstairs to find out. Despite the obvious wealth of the suites, they did not have telephones in each room yet. Not that Alphonse would have used the telephone anyway; the one time he'd tried it, the sound reverberated inside the helmet and he couldn't understand what the other person was saying. Unfortunately, the clerk at the desk had no idea if Edward and Winry had gone out and didn't remember a short guy in black and a girl in a dress. That could've been anyone, really. "Tonight, of all nights, you decide not to wear your red coat." Alphonse groused as he climbed the stairs back to the suite of rooms.

Well, at least there were a few library books he could look at while he was waiting for them to return.

* * *

"…uhhnnng…."

"Ed?"

His head was killing him. "Damn, Winry, you gonn' crack my skull with that wrench?" Stomach feeling like it was going to upend itself, Edward swallowed hard at the flood of moisture in his mouth. Looking around seemed like a bad move; the floor swam in front of him and he gulped, snapping his eyes closed again. "Hnnng..." Something didn't feel right, though. Something beyond the pounding in his skull and his twisting stomach. Edward slitted an eye open, seeing wooden tables and a rough, stone floor. They'd been outside earlier, right? "…Winry?"

She didn't answer and Edward wondered why. Had he dreamed going out with her? "Winry?"

"Oh," her breath hitched, "Ed, I'm sorry." Another pause and Edward felt the warm weight of something press into his shoulder. "It's my fault. If I'd listened to you…."

It hurt like hell to move his head but Edward tried. Winry's voice was coming from behind him, which meant…he wasn't sure what it meant. His thoughts scrambled and it seemed like it took a lot of effort just to control his touchy stomach right now. He wished he knew why his arms and shoulders ached. "S'okay, Winry." Oh. His arms were above his head.

Ice water seemed to flood his veins at that realization.

…_shit_. The guy in the alley. Winry. Dammit, what'd the guy done to Winry? "Are you okay? Winry?"

"I-I was so stupid." Anger tinged her voice, self-loathing, too. Edward recognized those tones all too well. "I distracted you." Bitterly, she whispered, "This is my fault, Ed."

"No…s'not." Edward wished he sounded more sure of himself. "We'll get outta this." He swallowed as his gorge threatened to rise. The pounding in his skull made it hard to string two thoughts together. His hands were lashed together above his head, no easy way for him to press his palms together to make a transmutation circle. Well, he could, Edward realized, but there wasn't anything he could transmute. His gloves? What would that do? The sound caught his attention. "You're not cryin'?"

"N-no." Winry sounded miserable. "I'm not crying." Her breath hitched. "I'm not gonna cry." There was the strength Edward knew.

"'kay." Swallowing again, Edward opened his eyes. The room swam again then steadied. The lighting was dim and the room smelled like earth and chemicals. The acrid scent lodged in his nostrils and Edward was hard pressed not to vomit. He bullied his stomach into submission as best he could. "Wha' happened, Winry?"

"You…you remember the guy stopping us in the alley?" When Edward made an agreeable noise, Winry went on. "You told me to leave, and I started to – but I-I turned back around and distracted you. I'm so sorry, Ed." She sounded weak and scared and not at all like her normal self. "It's my f-fault."

He tried to piece it together, not remembering all that much. The meal – Edward's stomach twisted at that and he clamped his lips closed – the guy in the alley. "'s'not your fault, Winry." He'd just have to figure a way for them to get loose. Behind him, Winry sniffed. "We'll be okay. Don' cry."

Her, "I won't," was shaky and drawn out and sounded like a lie to Edward but he decided against calling her on it. It wasn't as if he could do anything about it right now.

Well, besides changing the subject. "Where are we?"

"I don't know." Winry took a shaky breath. "He made me get in the trunk of his car with you. When he opened the trunk, we were down an incline and he grabbed me and dragged me in here."

"Smells like shit."

"There was manure…" Winry hesitated. "I saw bags of manure."

"An'…" His head hurt too much for Edward to concentrate on the other, chemical smell. He knew it. It was a common, stinky thing.

"And?"

Edward could almost feel Winry's eyes boring into his skull. "Dunno." Whatever he'd been thinking of was lost now. He wanted to go to sleep but his arm and shoulders hurt too much. And Winry was scared. "Hnnn…" _Winry doesn't get scared_.

"Ed? Ed, are you okay? Don't go to sleep, okay? Ed?"

"Tired." _Ow…keep your head up…hurts too much…_.

"I know, Ed, but I need you to stay awake." Winry wriggled behind him. "We have to get out of here."

It took so much effort to open his eyes. "I'll try." The room swam in front of him and Edward had to close his eyes and gulp at the bile in his throat. Behind him, he could feel Winry squirming, her shoulders bumping into his. He could hear her grunting softly, thinking she sounded like she was trying to break a frozen screw loose, and that noise drifted through his mind as everything else went black.

* * *

Alphonse closed the book with a metallic sigh, setting it back on the table. It had been more a fairy tale than anything; going on about the man of the east, the one who had brought alchemy to Amestris, being an immortal and able to bring about great changes in the world around him. Alphonse wasn't sure he believed it, though, after what he and Edward had witnessed in the bowels of Central City, perhaps it wasn't so much a fairy tale as something ringing with the truth. If that man…thing…_Father_…was the one who had brought alchemy to Amestris, it might explain a lot.

Swiveling his helmet, Alphonse would have frowned when he noticed the time. It was very late, far later than he would expect his brother and Winry to be out, especially without leaving him any indication where they might have gone. If he was a jealous person, Alphonse might've thought they'd ditched him to go have fun but, as it was, Alphonse thought his brother needed a little more joy in his life and Winry might be the best way to provide it. It wasn't like their ongoing arguments didn't show just how much they cared for each other. And his brother's sappy comment at the Central City train station, about making Winry cry tears of joy, was practically a declaration of…well, if not love, Alphonse wasn't sure what to call it.

That still didn't explain why they'd be out so late. Alphonse got to his feet, pacing the room. The sound of his armor rattling broke through his thoughts and he headed for the door, not wanting to disturb the rest of the other hotel patrons. Stopping, he quickly wrote a note, leaving it in plain sight, and left the room, locking the door behind him.

The stairs were empty, as was the street outside the hotel. Alphonse looked both directions, hoping but almost certain he wouldn't see two blond teens, bickering in the middle of the sidewalk.

Nothing.

Alphonse wondered just where they might have gone. Conway wasn't that large of a town but big enough that it wouldn't exactly be easy to search. Wondering if his brother had suddenly decided to take up drinking – well, it would explain why he and Winry weren't at the hotel – Alphonse let out a sigh that rattled his shoulder plates. "If I find out you and Winry are having fun and didn't bother to even leave me a note, Brother," he grumbled to himself, starting to walk to the first place he thought Edward could possibly be: the nearest bookstore.

* * *

It had been sheer luck to pick those two daisies on such a night. He hadn't expected to be so blessed to pluck them right off the street like that. It had been a disappointment to realize one was male but the petals were such an amazingly rare color, the sex didn't matter. The other was just as lovely, as sheer and sweet as honeysuckle on the vine. They would be excellent additions to his garden. He could hardly wait to plant them.

Walking down the stairs, he smiled as the familiar scents washed over him. Loam and peat moss, nitrate, the rich smell of manure. Quick lime. Clay, for the roses and the tomatoes he planted. There, in the corner, a barrel sat, waiting for him to extract his most recent planted daisy. She would be so lovely, once she'd dried out. Salt and clay together worked on her stem, branches and petals. Later, perhaps, he'd press the remains, but only the best and brightest were given that honor.

He thought maybe these two daisies might have earned a special place in his collection. Humming softly to himself, he activated the hidden lever, opening up the secret room. He'd left the light on earlier, knowing he would be returning shortly. Two daisies at once complicated things. Fortunately, the male was half-unconscious, if the lolling head was any indication, and the female's pretty bright eyes were full of fear. He could almost smell it drifting off her, a fine perfume. Fear was a good thing, though he thought she still might cause a problem. He figured he should finish plucking her first, then the male.

Still humming, he made his way to the cabinet where he kept his special gardening tools, unlocking the door. Behind him, the female made a strange little noise, a hiss of a sound. He ignored it, taking out the first of his tools. The flensing knife felt a little dull when he tested it on his thumb, so he pulled out his whetstone and oil from the cabinet, setting all three on the nearest table, along with a cleaning rag.

"W-what do you want?"

Another noisy one. He frowned as he began sharpening the flensing knife. Why couldn't they just be quiet? It would be so much easier if they were silent.

"Did you hear me?" Her voice rose in anger.

He turned his shoulder toward the daisies, peering into the cabinet. He plucked out the second tool, the flexible blade, that had once been a file. It was still perfectly sharp and he laid it on the table. The final tool, the sharp Xingese knife with the waterfall pattern, came out last. He couldn't help but raise it up, letting the light cascade off the blade.

"Someone will be looking for us. A lot of someones. You've kidnapped a State Alchemist."

Considering the Xingese knife, he turned it in his hand, glancing toward his pair of daisies. The male's head still drooped, petals stained crimson from the earlier blow in the alley. He'd need to wash the red out carefully, not wanting it to dye those rare golden petals.

"Are you even listening?"

The sounds the female made were so unlike the flowers he usually plucked, he glanced toward the pair, surprised at what greeted his eyes. The female glared at him, rage snapping in her gaze. He almost took a step back, not expecting such a thing. The other daisies had been fearful, cowering, but this one seemed different. Terror no longer wrapped this daisy in its cloak but stiffened her stem. He turned the blade in his hand, unsure of himself.

"Gah, thickheaded idiot men!" The female stamped her foot and he found himself taking a step back. Daisies didn't have feet. They didn't yell at him, they begged and pled and wept dew and eventually, were plucked and made even more beautiful. The knife in his hand twitched and he looked at it, surprised that his hand trembled. There was something wrong with this daisy, something terribly wrong. He raised his head, staring at the pair. The female stared back, eyes narrowing, mouth curled in disgust. "Let us go." When he hesitated, she snapped out, "Now!"

When she shouted, the knife spilled from his hand, clattering on the floor. He realized he'd taken a step back. His mouth went dry while his palms sweated. "You." Swallowing hard, he crossed the room, grabbing her chin. He shook her head, screaming, "You don't get to talk! You don't get to talk to me!"

The pain erupted in his shin, nearly sending him to the floor. Howling, he hopped out of the range of her feet. As he stumbled up through the stairs, he could hear her yelling after him, "Come close again and see what happens!"

Winry panted, glaring after him. The door was still open, letting her know how she could get out. She just had to figure a way to get free of the wires binding her wrists. The knife was too far away and she really had no way to get it up to her hands, anyway. Behind her, she felt Edward shuddering, turning as best she could. "Ed? Ed, are you okay?" He wheezed and the sound made her heart plummet. "Ed?" A cough and a sputter answered her. "Edward!"

"Ha…kicked 'im. Good…girl."

Her legs nearly gave out at the praise. He was still alive; still with her. "We're getting out of here, Ed." Tilting her head back, Winry twisted her arms as much as she could, trying to get a good look at the wire cutting into her wrists. If it was rope, she knew she could probably free herself from the restraints. "Ed, is there any way you can transmute the wires on my wrist?"

"Nng…" He wriggled behind her. "…Can't get my hands right." At her sigh, Edward mumbled, "Sorry, Winry."

"It's okay, Ed." Not wanting him to feel bad, Winry forced a smile, making it warm her voice. "We'll be okay. This guy," she looked toward the doorway, "he's scared. He's going to do something stupid, right? Scared people always do something stupid." Her arms ached and her shoulders felt like knots. She could only imagine what Edward had to feel like. "After we get out of here, I'll give you a massage."

"Hnn?" Edward shifted his weight, leaning his back more heavily against hers. "Whnn…tired."

Winry swallowed, moistening her suddenly dry mouth. "Ed, stay with me, okay? I need you to talk to me. About anything you want. Just talk to me."

Edward whined, a soft, high-pitched exhalation. "Too tired. Lemm' rest an' I'll talk later."

The weight on her back suddenly increased and no matter how loudly Winry called his name, Edward didn't answer.

* * *


	9. With Daisies Pied and Flowers Blue

**Chapter 9**: With Daisies Pied and Flowers Blue

* * *

The street seemed remarkably busy, even this late at night. Couples strolled along the boulevards; pausing to peer in windows; stopping to listen to musicians singing songs of love and heartache. Alphonse dodged around the couples with a bare 'excuse me'; giving each a quick glance to confirm that none were the pair he searched for. The bookseller had opened her shop to him, let him know that she hadn't seen Edward since early that morning, when he'd been by with his brother himself. Her kind smile didn't reassure Alphonse, who knew all too well the trouble Edward could find himself in. With Winry at his side, he might not take as many risks, but Winry was also Edward's weak point and Alphonse knew their enemies were equally aware of that.

"Where are you, Brother?" He stood still on the corner of a well-traveled street, searching through the moonlit night, hoping to spy the familiar forms of his brother and their best friend. After waiting for a few minutes, Alphonse had to move. His anxiety didn't show in the ways it would a human body; his fingers could clench into fists; his armor could tremble but he couldn't sweat or cry or feel his heart race in his chest.

Making a decision, Alphonse started off again, striding down the street, the clatter of his armor loud enough to send the couples in front of him scattering.

* * *

The throbbing in his skull told Edward that whatever he thought had been a nightmare probably wasn't. Someone was trying to pry his shoulder blades out of his body with a knife; his left arm tingled and ached and his wrist stung, further confirming what he remembered from the last time he'd been awake. Dry tongue attempted to moisten his lips, having little success. Edward shuffled his feet, forcing his legs to carry his weight again. "Winry?" Her name came out in a raspy whisper

The pressure against his upper back shifted. "Oh, Ed." She sounded like she was close to tears.

"Nothin' happened?" He meant to her though, Edward guessed it was really a stupid question since they both seemed to still be hanging up in this place.

"He," Winry's voice gave out. "He hasn't come back."

Edward forced a chuckle. "Prob'ly scared him."

Winry didn't respond beyond taking a deep, shaky breath. Edward wished he could see her face, look into her eyes if she'd let him. _Can't let her stay here_. Edward tried to bully his brain into working. His head falling back intensified the headache but he ignored it in his attempt to get a look at what held his hands over his head. "Winry? 'Zat wire?"

She sniffed before answering. "Yeah." Edward heard her swallow. "He wrapped us pretty tight."

Edward let out a huff of air. "Left my gloves on." He made his automail fingers wriggle then his flesh ones. _Ow. Dammit, that hurt_. "Gonna try somethin'. 'Kay?" Without waiting for an answer, he twisted his automail arm.

The wire cut into his flesh wrist, making it feel as if a razor sliced into his skin. Edward gritted his teeth, jerking the automail the other direction. His flesh shoulder spasmed in protest but Edward ignored the pain. _Have to get Winry out of this. Have to protect her_. Edward used those thoughts to goad him beyond the agony pulsing through his arm and shoulder. "Hnnng!" He could hear the strain singing through the wire; could feel something warm tickling down his flesh arm.

"Ed?" Winry sounded so far away.

He ignored her, too, panting with the effort of forcing his limbs to work. Automail didn't get stiff; didn't ache the way flesh and muscles did. He could work through the fire echoing through his nerves. He had to. Had to push himself beyond it. Winry needed him to act, to keep her safe.

Half-screaming, Edward thrust his weight forward, putting more pressure on the wire. The whine increased, the tension making the strands hum. Edward barely heard it through the ringing in his ears. Black dots danced in his vision and he knew that pungent odor rose from his own body. The sharp tangy smell of blood pierced his nose and Edward hoped he didn't pass out before he got free.

Something twanged and suddenly, the floor rose, reaching up to smack him in the forehead. Groaning, Edward let his head loll to the side, stars flashing in his sight. His breath rasped in his ears.

" – ward? Ed? Ed, are you all right?"

He blinked, hearing the panic in Winry's voice. Unable to remember for a few seconds how he'd wound up on the floor, Edward realized he'd managed to pull himself free from the bindings. "'m okay, Winry." It took three tries to get his flesh arm to move; another two to drag himself up to even a sitting position. The pain of blood moving through his arm made him want to scream but Edward knew he didn't have the time or luxury of expressing that agony. Instead, he made himself get to his knees, half-crawled to Winry. His head bumped into her leg and he rested there for a few seconds, opening his eyes to the sight of her thigh, wrapped the in soft cotton of her dress, her skirt damaged and dirtied. "Gnng!" Edward realized that red streak was from his own blood, that he'd sullied Winry's skirt. _I'll get you a new one once we're out of here. Promise_.

Using her as a brace, Edward practically climbed her body. Loathing left a nasty taste in his mouth but he couldn't figure out an easier way to get to his feet. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, afraid to meet her eyes as he pressed his palms together, biting his tongue to keep from screaming as he reached up to transmute the wire holding her arms over her head.

Their arms tumbled down, Edward groaning as Winry's senseless hand landed on his shoulder. They propped each other up, her wide, reddened eyes staring blankly into his. Edward had to look away first, tucking his face against her neck for a second, breathing in her scent. _Winry_.

"Ed, don't…don't go to sleep. We have to get out of here." Even though he could hear the tears in her voice, it didn't quaver.

Smiling against her throat, Edward made his spine straighten. He tried on his cocky grin, knowing by the expression on Winry's face it didn't quite work but at least he'd made the effort. "Yeah. Yeah." Rolling his shoulders, Edward took a step back from Winry. "Le's get outta here." He took a deep, settling breath, meeting Winry's eyes, realizing her own were widening, staring beyond his shoulder, her mouth opening in a whispered gasp.

As the room jerked and wobbled on its axis, Edward heard a voice behind him saying, "Daisies aren't supposed to get free."

* * *

It felt as if he'd been walking in circles. No one had seen Edward or Winry; a pair of blond teenagers just didn't stand out in Conway. Alphonse had even stopped by Lena's father's shop, in case Edward and Winry had come by looking for him. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen them." Lena had picked up on his anxiety, offering to come with him and help look. Now she trotted at his side, taking three steps to his one. Alphonse knew he was moving too quickly for Lena to keep up but couldn't seem to slow his pace until he had some idea where Edward and Winry were.

He stopped on a corner, helmet swiveling from side to side. Lena caught up to him, breathing hard, though, when Alphonse glanced down at her, she flashed him a reassuring smile. He wished it made him feel better. "I don't know where to look next." The admission stabbed through him.

Lena shoved her hair back off her shoulders. "What about the lake? Do you think they took a moonlight cruise?"

He barely took time to consider the idea. "I don't think so." Edward wasn't that romantic.

"The library?" Lena frowned as Alphonse shook his head, the metal squealing.

"I checked there already."

She folded her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. "There are too many restaurants to check and they'll be closing soon." Lena's mouth turned down. "We won't even get to the ones on the next few blocks before it'll be too late to talk to anyone."

"Alphonse? Hey!"

Hope rose at the sound of his name and plummeted just as fast as Alphonse turned, spotting a tall man waving at him. "Tony?"

Crossing the street, the man smiled up at Alphonse, nodding politely at Lena. "Not a double date, huh?"

"What?" Alphonse couldn't follow that question. "I'm sorry, Tony, we're sort of busy."

"Don't worry, I won't interrupt your date." He raised his hands. "But your brother and Miss Rockbell – gllk!"

"You've seen them?" Alphonse found he'd grabbed Tony, lifted the man off the ground. He set him back down. "I – I mean."

Tony looked from Alphonse to Lena and back again. "Has something happened?"

"Al can't find his brother and their friend," Lena said before Alphonse could rally his thoughts to answer.

"But I just saw them," Tony checked his watch, "a few hours ago." This time he dodged Alphonse's grab. "I sent them to a nice restaurant. Miss Rockbell was dressed very nicely and, seriously, Alphonse, your brother cleans up pretty well. I thought they should have a good dinner and told them where Anne and I went."

"Where. Where did you send them?" Alphonse's gloves twitched and flexed. "Tony, I need to know. Brother and Winry should've been back hours ago."

Tony's face paled. "…hours?" He bit his lip, nodding. "Come with me. I'll take you there myself."

* * *


	10. They Talk in Flowers

**Chapter 10**: They Talk in Flowers

* * *

"Ed, get up!" The prettier daisy leaned against the wall, her stem wilted. Not enough water, Steinkuhl thought, but at least that wouldn't be a problem much longer. Once he'd plucked her, she wouldn't need water any more. She trembled, as if caught in a breeze, her wide eyes staring at him.

The golden daisy lay sprawled on the floor, breath rasping heavily. The blood had caked on his petals and Steinkuhl reminded himself he'd need to clean that carefully. He'd never seen such a rich shade of yellow in petals before. If there was a way to preserve the daisy's eyes, he would – they were like miniature suns, blazing away when they were opened. That was probably why the lighter-colored daisy stuck so close to him – the warmth of those eyes. He glanced toward the pale daisy, wanting to see her expression.

Dew spangled her face and he thought, callously, that she was self-watering. As if she felt his gaze, she pushed against the wall, straightening her stem. Her leaves rustled and the daisy took a step nearer to him. "You stay away from us."

_Daisies shouldn't talk_, he thought, frowning, _not in such angry tones. They should always sound breathless and shivery._

"I mean it!" She took a couple of steps nearer. Determination showed in her curled leaves, in the way she shook back her petals. She stepped over the golden daisy, planting herself in front of him. Protecting him. _Maybe I shouldn't have taken them both at the same time_.

The golden daisy groaned, pressing against the floor with his leaves. "You heard her." Achingly slow, he pushed up to his knees, not moving any farther.

"Ed, can you stand up?" The pale daisy didn't even glance down though he knelt at her side.

"Maybe." A weary but fierce grin split his face. "But I know I can do this." His leaves came together with a peculiar sound, like the clear tone of a bell being struck, and lightning seemed to flash as his leaves dropped to the flooring again, making it ripple like a mole digging through loose soil.

Steinkuhl cried out as the floor swallowed his lower limbs, casing them in lightning blue and concrete. He screamed louder when he realized he couldn't move his feet. Windmilling his arms, he fought to stay upright, to not fall down before the flowers. The lighter-colored daisy stared at him, mouth dropping open, head swiveling to gape at the golden daisy next to her.

"Scream all you want." He looked ready to collapse but managed to drag himself upright. "C'mon, Winry. Let's get out of here."

The pale daisy wrapped a leaf around the golden one, ignoring the protests he made. The two of them edged sideways, out of Steinkuhl's scrabbling reach. The golden daisy showed all his teeth, like the smile of an angry dog. "You," he pointed with his free hand, "stay there." The pair took a wobbling step, the weight of the male nearly pulling the female down.

"C'mon, Ed," she gritted her teeth, "you can do this."

He grunted in response. "…still woozy. Musta hit me hard." They shuffled their way toward the staircase leading out of the basement, the male balking at the first step. "Not gon' make it, Winry."

"I'm not leaving you here." She glanced over her shoulder and Steinkuhl hid a flinch at the sheer fury in her eyes. "Not with him."

"…not goin' anywhere." His body sagged, only his leaf smacking into the doorframe keeping him upright. "Lemm' down an' you call som'body."

Her body vibrated with her hesitation. "This isn't a good idea, Ed." Her low voice barely carried across the room.

"S'okay." The golden daisy unwound his leaves from her. "'m okay." He braced himself on the wall. "s'gonna all be okay." His face split in what Steinkuhl thought might be a reassuring smile. "Go 'wan. Get some help."

She stared at him for a long time, searching his face. "You're sure."

"Yeah." He straightened his stem, presenting the pale daisy with a confidant demeanor, and shooed her toward the stairs.

No, Steinkuhl thought, but the pale daisy already had a foot on the first riser. She still frowned at the other daisy, but he waved her on. As she turned her face toward him, Steinkuhl felt a trembling in his gut, a loosening of his bowels. She was going upstairs. "No!" He clawed at the flooring – how could a flower make the ground move? "No, you can't go up there!"

* * *

The restaurant was just closing as they arrived, Lena and Tony puffing and blowing behind him while Alphonse shouted at the man locking the door. "Hey! Wait!"

He froze, obviously startled by the sight of the three of them and Alphonse was reminded again of how he must look to someone who didn't know him. Even people who did know him could never read his face or tell how he actually felt. Winry and Edward had made a game of it, sort of, when they were younger, and he'd never quite had the heart to tell them how very often they were wrong. "No, it's okay! I just need to ask you a couple of questions."

Though he didn't remove his hand from the doorlatch, the man at least seemed a little less frightened. "What can I do for you," he glanced beyond Alphonse to Lena, half a block away, Tony just a few paces ahead of her.

"My brother and our friend were here earlier this evening, I think." At the man's impatient frown, Alphonse waved his hands in the air. "No, listen – my brother's short, really short. He's about this tall – long hair, probably in a braid." Damn it, why had Ed picked tonight to not wear that jacket? "Blond hair – they both are blonds – she's," Alphonse sorted through adjectives that would apply to Winry, surprised by the one he blurted out, "beautiful."

The man raised his eyebrows. "There were a lot of couples in here tonight and a lot of beautiful women."

"They're kids," Tony said, picking his way closer. "A pair of teenagers. Not much older than her." He waved his hand at Lena.

That caused a reaction. "Yes," the man said, bobbing his head in a series of shallow nods. "There was a pair of kids here tonight. Ordered a pretty big meal. We figured they would do a dine and dash but the bo - " he stopped, giving Alphonse a lingering, up and down look, "young man paid and left a hefty tip, too. Jon was pretty happy he got their table after that."

"Hefty tip?" Alphonse scrubbed the chin guard of his helmet, thinking that didn't sound like his brother. Unless, "Do you remember the name on the bill?"

"With a tip that big? Everyone's hoping Roy Mustang comes back to eat here."

His leather gauntlet smacking into the face plate made Alphonse's helmet ring. "Oh, Brother."

"He's…not Roy Mustang?" The man looked suddenly nervous, his expression turning quickly into one of rage. "He stiffed us?"

Realizing what he'd done, Alphonse caught hold of the man's shoulders. "No, no, he didn't stiff you. The bill will be paid, trust me." _Even if I have to take it out of Ed's hide._ "Did he say where he and Winry were going?"

Mollified, probably by the fact that Alphonse loomed over him more than anything else, the man shook his head. "Jon said," he grinned, glancing sideways at Tony then back up at Alphonse, "that girl better be ready to put ou – gllk!"

Alphonse's gauntlets closed over the man's shoulders. "Alphonse!" Lena grabbed his wrist, giving it a tug, not able to move him at all.

"Hey, Alphonse, c'mon, it's guy talk," Tony said, thumping his knuckles on Alphonse's armor, making it boom.

Alphonse still leaned very close. "Look," he said to the man, "remind Jon that some of us have friends. And sisters. And we don't like hearing guys talk about them that way. Got it?" The man bobbed his head rapidly, his eyes wide, and Alphonse released him. "Good."

With a nervous laugh, the man rubbed his hands over his upper arms. "I'm sorry, mister. I didn't know. I mean…it's just guy talk, right?"

Alphonse sighed. "Look, just…think next time, all right?" He glanced down, surprised that Lena still had her hands wrapped around his greeve. Inside, Alphonse tried to relax even though no one would be able to tell but him. Closing his gauntlet over her hand – delicately, remembering Winry teaching him how to pick up things again, how to touch, how to hold, by handing him eggs – Alphonse gave Lena's fingers a squeeze. "Thank you," he told her, and accepted the gleam in her eyes as a reminder that other people were involved, too. "And thanks for your help, too." He nodded at the guy who mumbled something, turning a little too quickly to lock the front door of the restaurant.

"Well, at least we know they made it here." Tony shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. Craning his head back, he eyed Alphonse. "So, your brother and Winry had a nice dinner. What would they do next?"

"Ed would want to sleep it off." The words popped out unexpected though Alphonse knew they were true. Winry would want to do some thing, Edward would want to go back to the room and sleep. He considered. Would Winry convince Ed to do anything? And if so, what? "They would've been back at our room by now."

"So where would they go?" Lena looked between Alphonse and Tony.

Alphonse wished he could sigh. He wished he could yell to the sky to bring him back his brother and Winry. He wanted to scream and cry and rage against their loss. Instead, he stood, frozen, unable to decide even what he should do next. "Where are you, Ed? Where did you take Winry?"

* * *

Winry started at the man's shout, automatically reaching for Edward's shoulder, curling her fingers into a fist instead. "I don't like leaving you with him, Ed." His head turned to her, slow as spring, offering her what he had to think was a reassuring grin. From this angle, she could see the blood matted in his hair and his smile didn't do anything for his left eye, with its blown pupil.

"S'gonna be okay." His head wobbled like a newborn kitten's.

The guy screamed something unintelligible, making Winry look his way. His fingers, bloodied by digging at the concrete prison Ed had made, scrabbled over his legs, trying to find a way to free them. As if he felt her gaze, he raised his head, snarling at her. Spittle roped through his mouth and his eyes glazed over with something that made Winry want to run. "Ed, you can't stay here with him."

"Can't…climb." He could barely stand.

"Then I'll carry you." Winry wasn't sure where that came from but she was pretty sure she could do it. Maybe. She knew if he didn't have his automail, she'd be able to haul him around like he weighed nothing, but without a wrench, she wouldn't be able to disengage the port hook up to Ed's nerves properly.

Ed snorted, the sound clearer than anything else he'd made since he'd woken up in this creepy basement.

"You aren't that heavy without your automail." Before she stopped to think any more about it, Winry hopped off the steps, kneeling next to Ed and pushing the left leg of his trousers up. His arm was trickier – she needed actual tools to disconnect it – but Ed's leg came off easily.

Ed blinked at her, her words obviously rattling around in his scattered brain. "Winry."

"Shut up, Ed." She felt around under his trousers for the latch holding the automail to his stump. "And don't move," she snapped when he twitched.

"Tickles." Making a sound somewhere between a giggle and a grunt, Ed jerked his leg in her hands. "Winry!"

"Hold still!" She heard the faint, hydraulic hiss, grinning as his leg fell into her hand. Tugging it free from Ed's pants leg, Winry laid it aside, less worried about it than getting Ed out of this creepy place. Behind her, that man screeched, sounding even more like a wild animal. "Okay, now, you have to pay attention, Ed. Don't fall asleep, all right? You're going to have to hold on to me. Hold on tight." Winry settled on one knee, keeping the other one bent. Reaching back, she caught hold of Ed's wrists and pulled.

He came almost easily, not even arguing. Winry craned to look over her shoulder. "Stay awake, Ed!"

"'m awake," he grumbled in her ear, his breath tickling her neck. "S'not right, you carryin' me." Ed wrapped his arms around her as she hitched his leg and stump up, making ready to stand.

"Hnnn! - next time," she grunted through her teeth, "you can," getting both feet under her, "carry me." Her thighs trembled at the extra weight then steadied. "Come on. You're not getting any lighter." Left foot on the first step. Winry refreshed her grip on Ed's leg and his stump. That ramp they'd come down had been steep and long. Stairs were easier. She could keep her balance on stairs. Right foot on the second step. "You're not drooling on me, are you Ed?"

He felt like a dead weight on her back though his arms still crossed over her chest. "'kay," he mumbled against her shoulder.

"Ed? You can't sleep, remember?" Fourth step. How many more were there? "Why don't you count the steps for me?" Winry flipped the hair out of her eyes, climbing another riser. Behind them, that guy had gone quiet and that, more than anything, worried her. If he wasn't screaming, she didn't know where he was. "Edward Elric."

"'m up!"

"Stay that way." She made her voice into a whip. "I need you awake, Ed. It's important. If you slip…ungh." Winry clenched her teeth, climbing another couple of risers. "If you slip, you could make us both fall." Fingers moved over her breastbone. So not the time to think about _that_. "Ed!"

"Don't yell." He sounded horrible, miserable, kind of whiny.

"I'm sorry. I just need you to stay awake, okay?"

Ed sighed. "Tryin'. Hard."

They both fell silent, Winry concentrating on each step. Ed's weight didn't feel balanced against her but there wasn't much she could do about it. She knew she wouldn't be able to help him hop up the stairs, not that he'd be coherent enough to attempt it. Gritting her teeth, Winry tottered up another few steps. Her legs trembled. She forced herself to go on. "Ed?"

"Nng?"

"Just makin' sure you're still awake."

A soft chuckle brushed against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "I'm still holdin' on." His chin dug into her shoulder. "Din't tell you. You look nice tonight." Ed inhaled. "Smell good, too."

"We're not gonna die here, Ed." Just a few more steps and they'd be on the next floor. "Don't talk like we are."

"Nn! Not. Jus'…wanted t'tell you." Ed tightened his arms around her, almost as if he was giving her a hug. "Forgot…earlier."

"Mm." Winry forced her right foot up. _Please let there be a phone_. Her left foot followed and they were on the next floor. "Oh, no."

The length of another basement lay in front of her.

* * *

A.N.: This story, and various others of mine, under both my pen names (S J Smith & Evil Little Dog) have been nominated for the Best of Fanfiction awards at Dot Moon. I'd love it if you'd go take a look at all the categories and vote! You don't even have to vote for me (but it'd be nice if you did). http: / www(dot)dotmoon(dot) net /awards/

Thanks!

- SJS


	11. Wearing Wild Flowers in Our Hair

**Wearing Wild Flowers In Our Hair**

Note: For those of you Ed/Winry fans, I'm running an art/fic challenge on Live Journal; Fire and Ice 2011. The link is: http:/ fireandice 2011. livejournal. com/** - **be sure and take out the spaces! You do not have to have an LJ account to participate or vote. Signups are taking place until September 4th, 2011, and I'd love to make this a huge, wonderful event. Thank you for your time, and enjoy the story! **  
**

* * *

Edward wished his head didn't feel so sloshy. Wasn't right, Winry helping him like this. She always helped him. Smelled good, too. She was shaking. That couldn't be good. _Don't cry._ "Wi-Winry?"

"Yeah, Ed?"

She didn't sound right. Edward knew he should say something, figure out a way to get them out of here. He wasn't any help to Winry now. He couldn't protect her this way. Huffing softly, Edward blew some hair out of his face. "You gotta," what did Winry have to do? Oh, yeah. "Gotta leave me here. That guy's trapped inna basement."

"I'm not leaving you, Ed." Winry's voice caught then firmed up, becoming stern. "Don't be stupid!"

They were moving again. Edward wondered how, since he couldn't feel his feet. Winry took his leg, hadn't she? How were they walking?

"Ed, we're getting out of this together."

"Nng. I'll be okay. Y'can leave me here."

Winry shook her head, her hair tickling his nose. "You won't be okay. We're better off together, remember?"

Edward sighed. "You, me an' Al." Jerking his eyes open, he mumbled against Winry's shoulder. "We need Al." Alphonse could protect Winry and take care of the guy in the basement.

"We'll find him. We just need to get out of this place." Winry hefted him up higher on her back. She inhaled deeply. "Hold on, Ed. We'll get out of here."

"Y'can't keep carryin' me, Winry." Edward could just make out the stairs ahead of them. "'M too heavy."

"Ed, I can do this." So damned determined. Edward jerked his right leg, freeing it from Winry's grip. She dragged him across the floor, stumbling but catching herself as Edward let go of her. He managed to balance, sort of, before Winry grabbed his arms again. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Ed?"

"Helping!" He tried to pull free, almost falling. The room spun around him and Edward dropped on his butt. "Ow. Damn it!" It felt like the top of his head popped off.

"You're not helping!" Winry squatted in front of him, her face all screwed up. "I'm not going to just leave you here."

Edward managed to focus on one of the three Winrii in front of him. "I'm gonna slow you down. Y'll get upstairs faster." Folding his arms, he jerked his chin toward the staircase. _Fuck, that hurt._ "Fina phone. Call p'lice." The Winrii were frowning. "You can't carry me, Winry!" Not up another flight of stairs. "Go get help. I'll be okay!"

Dropping to her knees in front of him, Winry pressed the heel of her hand against her temple. "We're both getting out of here, Edward." She raised her head, eyes narrowed and sparking. Still determined. "It'll be okay. I can help you."

"Damn it, Winry, y're not listening! Y'can't carry me up those stairs." Edward gnashed his teeth, ignoring the way it made his head sing. "Go on! The sooner you get up those stairs, the sooner the p'lice get here! Nng! S'best way t'help me, Winry. Get." Pushing at her shoulders, he growled when she didn't move. "Get up the stairs." Hating the expression on her face, Edward cursed himself for making her look that way. He steeled himself. "Go, Winry!" He bit out the words. "You. Can't. Help. Me."

Winry's eyes were huge, her lower lip trembling. _No, nonono…don't cry._ She jerked her head away, hair sweeping past his face. "You're right." Her words sounded both thick and sharp. Inhaling deeply, she pressed her hands down on the floor, pushing herself to her feet. "I'll be back, Ed." Her index finger waved in front of his nose before she whirled in a flurry of skirt hem, pounding up the stairs.

He all but fell sideways, eyelids too heavy to keep open. "I know."

* * *

Steinkuhl screamed, rocking back and forth against the cement and earth encasing his body. Flowers couldn't run. Flowers needed tending, they weren't angry and frightening. They couldn't work the earth back against _him._ He pounded his fists against the bindings, not noticing when his skin tore and left splatters of blood behind. He couldn't let the daisies escape. They couldn't leave his greenhouse!

How had the golden daisy worked the earth? He always thought flowers were magical but only in their beauty. Something so fragile couldn't control the soil beneath its roots, could it? He'd never heard of such a thing, never even imagined it. But the two daisies had escaped from his bindings. Was it because he'd taken two at the same time? Did it make them more daring? But the female, the paler daisy, should be cowering, not threatening, especially with the darker daisy and its broken stem.

Screaming and threatening would get him nowhere. The daisies had climbed out of his garden and needed to be retrieved. He had to catch them. They would be impossible to replace.

Steinkuhl needed something heavier to break out of this stone prison. He'd never left anything here in the basement besides his knives in the locked cabinet. No shovels or even stakes, except the one he'd tied his daisies to, and it wasn't within reach. With a groan, he beat his hands against the cement.

Something shifted.

Eyes snapping open, Steinkuhl stared down at his chest, at the cement holding him in place. A long crack rippled down the center of it, breaking off into tributaries and spreading toward the base. Jerking his body to the right as far as it would go, he flung himself to the left. The casing around his body popped and whined, bits of it flaking away.

He continued rocking, trying to loosen his feet despite the pain his movement caused. His heavy boots might be able to kick free, if he could crack the cement a little more.

And then…then his knives would come in handy again.

* * *

Alphonse couldn't understand it. How had Edward and Winry disappeared so completely? They weren't quiet people in any regard; shouting at each other at the top of their lungs was their way of communicating. They weren't people who'd just vanish without anyone noticing but that's what had happened. It wasn't fair. They were supposed to be here on a holiday, dammit!

"Al!"

The sound of his name being repeatedly called finally through his thoughts. Alphonse realized Lena had been yelling his name for some time. Turning, he saw Tony and she had fallen behind, nearly a city block behind. "I'm sorry!" He trotted back, aware of the clatter of his armor.

"It's okay, Al." Lena smiled up at him as he approached though her expression was pained.

Alphonse smacked himself on the forehead, making the metal ring. "Lena, I'm so sorry. It's late. I should take you home. You aren't going to be in trouble, are you?" And even as he spoke, Alphonse chafed at needing to walk her home. Wherever Edward and Winry were, they needed him. Still, he couldn't let Lena go home alone, not with this sort of thing happening to people who could fight back.

Lena shrugged as Tony looked between them. "I'd rather stay and help you. Neither of you know Conway like a native." She glanced at Tony. "Besides, it's not that late."

Alphonse thought it was. Restaurants and shops were closed, the streets emptied. He wished Edward had left a sign, a clue, anything that would help him find his brother. If he could breathe, Alphonse though he might be weeping. If his body was real, maybe it would fall apart from this shaking that ran through him. Had Edward felt the same way when Greed had kidnapped his little brother? No, Edward had been furious that someone would dare – almost like he'd been when the Fuhrer had threatened Winry.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Alphonse said, "No, Lena, it is late. I should take you home."

Hands on her hips, she glared at him, her expression so reminiscent of Winry's, Alphonse took a step backward, expecting a wrench to smack his chest plate. "If it's so late, what's that little girl doing outside?" Lena swept her hand out in an exaggerated gesture, pointing at a frizzy haired little girl, watching them from across the street.

* * *

Without Ed on her back, Winry charged up the stairs, trying to ignore the feeling that she raced into a black cave. The stink of fertilizer and manure didn't smell quite right, like something was off in the mix. Winry didn't want to think of the putrid reek clogging her nostrils and coating the back of her throat as she breathed.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Winry hesitated. No light shone anywhere. What was this guy doing, anyway? She swallowed, not wanting to think too hard on that question. The basement where she and Ed had been held was brilliantly lit. The next floor up, where she'd left Ed, not so well lit. She'd been able to see some bags of fertilizer and other stuff, a couple of tables with what looked like pots and bags of soil strewn across them. This floor had no lighting. There was a feel to it, though, in the way the air seemed heavy and moist, that made Winry wonder where she was.

She took a deep breath, feeling along the wall on first the right, then the left side of the doorway. Her questing fingers found the buttons and she pressed the top one. Lights sprang on, stinging her eyes, making Winry blink, first at their vibrancy then at where she was. Flowers, both potted and in vases, covered tables set in rows down the center of the room. A few capped barrels were set against the walls on either side. Hanging from hooks on the walls were skeins of ribbons and thread, scissors, shears and clippers hanging from hooks. Vases and decorative pots vied for room on a table with another bag of soil, dirt spilling from its open mouth.

"A flower shop?" Winry didn't take time to think about it. Not seeing a telephone in her cursory glance around the room, she spun in place, heading back to the stairway. She hesitated, staring down, wishing she could see Edward before she started climbing. Swallowing down his name, Winry set her hand on the wooden banister, setting her foot on the first riser to take her back down to him. But she looked over her shoulder at the doorway at the end of the room. _There'll be a telephone in there._

* * *

Steinkuhl groaned, almost afraid to walk. His shoes felt wet and hot, sticky, and, when he looked down, they were coated with a thick red dust. His first step felt as if he walked on glass shards, nearly sending him to his knees. Grabbing onto the table, Steinkuhl balanced on feet that burned and ached. Biting back a curse, he fought with the agony, digging his fingers into the wood.

Making himself move took willpower, but he had an incentive. He couldn't dally any longer. Personal pain didn't matter. The daisies did. He had to pluck them again. He couldn't let them escape. They had to stay here. He'd chosen them for his garden particularly. Their rarity had entranced him into taking them both from off the street. Now, they had to be contained, before they made their way out of his green house and ruined everything.

The room spun and Steinkuhl retched, acid burning his nose and throat. He hawked and spat, wiping his mouth on the forearm of his sleeve. His feet felt like they'd been immersed in acid but he'd have to ignore the pain, the way the male daisy had. Sucking down a deep breath, Steinkuhl forced his legs to move, taking a step. His legs gave out on him, his knees buckling under the agonizing shock running up through his body. If the female daisy could climb carrying the male, he could climb, too. And besides, the male daisy'd left his stem behind. He might need it back.

Steinkuhl panted, staring at the stairs. They wouldn't be able to move very fast, he told himself. He had time to let the pain fade a bit. Then he'd walk. He would. He had to. And he'd collect his flowers again.

* * *

Winry wavered for a few seconds. The man hadn't driven his car down as far as she'd come up by the stairs. The building must've been dug into a hillside. Passing her hand across her forehead, she took a deep, shuddering breath. The room had the same peculiar odor to it; the sweet scent of flowers barely covering something that made her nose twitch. The stench seemed to clog her throat. Winry shook her head, gathering herself. She needed to find a telephone, call for help, and get back down to Edward. She didn't want to leave him very long, not in the condition he was in.

Fighting down a shudder, she made her way through the room. A single door awaited her with a narrow window gracing it. Testing the doorknob, Winry opened the door, entering a tiny office. Pigeonholes climbed the walls and were festooned with ribbons, wax flowers, rolls of paper and strings of beads. The scent of flowers was even stronger here, and Winry made her way through another door and into a closed flower shop. Orchids, tulips and roses greeted her, the scent of so much greenery in an enclosed space overwhelming. Still, Winry gulped it down, thinking it was better than the stink in the previous room. A tiny light burned near the counter, and Winry skirted the plants to reach it, expecting to find a telephone.

The drawer of the brass cash register hung open, proof to any would be thief the money for the shop was located elsewhere, but Winry had other things on her mind, delighted at the sight of a telephone. Taking the receiver from its cradle, she pressed the cradle a couple of times, waiting for an operator to pick up on the other end. "Hello?"

"Whom would you like to reach, please?" the operator responded.

"I need the police!" Rifling the papers under the counter, Winry found a receipt book, imprinted with the name of the florist and the address. "My friend and I were kidnapped!"

"Yes, ma'am." The tone of the operator's voice made it sound as if she didn't believe Winry. "Connecting you."

There was a faint click-click noise of the connection being made and a few seconds later, a masculine voice came on the line. "Conway Military Police, Seventh Precinct."

"My name is Winry Rockbell. My friend and I were kidnapped. We're at Steinkuhl Flower Shop, and the address is - "

"Miss, miss, slow down. You've been kidnapped?"

"He wants to kill us! He was sharpening knives." Forcing herself under control again, Winry said, "We need help! My friend has a concussion, and the man is still downstairs in the basement with him." Winry glanced over her shoulder, back toward the office.

"Is this some kind of joke?"

She swallowed down a scream. "No! No, it's not. Please, send someone to 1722 Oakhill Drive. It's an emergency, please, hurry."

The person on the other end of the line seemed to catch her emergency. "I'll send someone right away, Miss Rockbell."

"Thank you!" Twisting the telephone cord around her fingers, Winry said, "There are basements – sub-basements – in this place. I'll leave you a path to follow! Please, hurry." Replacing the receiver in its cradle, Winry studied everything available to her. The door was bolted, and needed a key to be unlocked – the man in the basement was taking no chances with the people he caught. But Winry didn't need a key to open a door, especially with all the windows available. She pulled the blinds covering the door and, hefting a large ceramic pot, sent it shattering through the glass. The pot broke on impact with the sidewalk outside, and Winry surveyed the damage for a few seconds. It should get not only the military police's attention, but also anyone else's who came by the shop.

Running back into the office, Winry grabbed a roll of ribbon out of the pigeon hole. She had to knock a piece of glass free to tie the end of the ribbon around the front doorknob of the flower shop. The resultant crash barely registered. Tying the ribbon in place, Winry let it unroll behind her as she walked back to the office, wrapping the ribbon around the doorknob there. Grabbing another roll of ribbon, Winry started off through the back of the store, heading for the basements below. "Help is on the way, Ed," she murmured. "Just hang on."

* * *

"She shouldn't be out that late." Alphonse barely heard Tony's words as he started down the street, picking up speed as he moved. He'd seen the curly haired girl before. She'd been outside the hotel. She'd been behind them on the street while they were walking. He'd noticed her, but hadn't paid any attention to her. And now, she stared at him, her eyes huge in her face as he thundered up to her.

She didn't even seem afraid to see something as huge as he was bearing down on her, just popped a finger in her mouth, tilting her head back farther. "Wow," Alphonse heard her say.

"You've been following us!"

Her shoulders hunched a bit and she sidled sideways.

"Al!" Lena shouted behind him, so far behind him.

Alphonse leaned down over the girl. "You've been keeping track of where we are, since we got to Conway! Why?"

Her face screwed up but he couldn't feel any sympathy at the second. Not now. "My brother and our friend went out tonight, and now no one knows where they are. But I bet you do!"

"Al," Tony grabbed his greave, stumbling as he was unable to turn Alphonse around. "You're scaring her."

He couldn't keep the fury from his voice. "She's been following us. Almost everywhere I've gone, I've seen her. She's keeping track of us for some reason!" Jerking free, Alphonse understood why his brother kicked things. He wanted to kick something right now, too, just to release some of the tension he knew should be running through his body. Gathering control of himself was like trying to catch the wind in a sieve but Alphonse managed, kneeling in front of the girl. He tried to make himself small, impossible as the task might be. "You've been following us," he repeated, making his voice soft and gentle, even though it was an effort. "Why?"

Looking about to cry, the girl shook her head, her clenched fists held up to her chest.

Alphonse couldn't keep the urgency out of his voice. "Please, you have to tell me!"

"Al, she's a little girl," Tony said as Lena caught up to them.

"But she knows something! Why else would she have been following us? Please," he begged, holding out his hands to the girl, "tell me where they are. Tell me where I can find Ed and Winry!"

* * *

Steinkuhl studied what remained of the stone cocoon. Blood streaked down the bit still standing staining the crumbled pieces on the floor. It would be a mess to clean up later. He'd need someone who knew how to fill in holes to tear it down and repair the area around it. And he'd have to hire someone with some discretion. Most people didn't know how deep into the hill his shop went. At one time, it had been an armory for a private citizen, maybe even an alchemist. His father had bought it up for a song when it remained abandoned for so long, and bragged about it to anyone who'd listen. At least, that's what Steinkuhl remembered. His father had taken a fall down the staircase when he was little, landing in a bloodied, broken heap at the bottom of it. His mother didn't go looking, even when he'd told her Daddy was hurt. He'd tried to help Daddy back upstairs, but he wasn't strong enough. And Mommy wouldn't let him go outside to ask anyone for help. When anyone asked, Mommy said Daddy'd left, but it wasn't true. He'd been planted in the garden, and daisies grew over him. Mommy'd made him help her dig the hole, and then plant the flowers afterward. They had to do all the digging at night, so no one would know. "He's a daisy now," she'd said, "better a daisy than a man."

There were other daisy patches in the yard, but Mommy hadn't been one of them. Enough people knew her, that when she got sick, they came around and helped him take care of her. And the doctor had been there when she died, and insisted on taking her body away. Mommy had been buried without any daisies planted on top of her. He'd nearly gone and dug her up to plant her in the yard, but when he'd finally managed to escape the well-meaning mourners keeping watch over him, someone had planted flowers to grow out of Mommy. It seemed rude to dig them up, so she'd stayed with the rest of the people in the cemetery.

That didn't mean he couldn't collect other flowers. He'd seen a beautiful one the day they'd planted Mommy. She'd been swathed in black and dripping dew. She'd bought flowers at Mommy's shop before, but he'd never paid any attention to her then. She'd been exquisite at the planting, like a rose veiled in ribbons, just hints of color shining through. She'd been his first. He'd lured her in when she'd said she was taking a trip away, offering to take care of the plants Mommy'd sold her while she was gone. No one missed her at first, since she'd told everyone she was going for a month. By the time someone did realize she hadn't come back to Conway, he'd put her in a press, and saved her forever.

He'd pressed or planted others, preserving their lovely petals in various ways. He'd gotten good at it, though he'd never shown anyone his techniques. Mommy kept Daddy planted in the garden to keep him a secret. He understood other people wouldn't understand why he'd preserved his flowers.

But the two daisies he'd plucked off the street tonight, they were a problem. He couldn't let them escape. They had to be plucked again, planted quickly, or he knew he'd have serious problems.

Steeling himself, he tried to get off the floor. Agony ripped through his legs and feet, making him moan. He wasn't sure if he could even walk but he knew he had no choice. He left a trail of blood behind as he made his way to the preparation table to gather his tools. The knife fit his hand perfectly, but he thought he might need something else. These daisies were different. They didn't act right. They weren't scared of him.

Dropping his flensing knife, he reached into his cabinet for his work tools, pulling out the long, broad knife he used to chop down small trees. He ran the ball of his thumb over the edge of the blade, feeling it catch and cut the flesh, leaving behind a streak of blood. With a smile, he hefted the blade, turning toward the stairs. He could use this to stop the daisies from leaving. One blow from this, and they'd be unable to move, ever again.

* * *

Winry threw the ribbon roll down the stairs ahead of her, charging after it. She'd run out of ribbon halfway through the room off the office, and had shoved a table close enough to the door to tie off the second start of ribbon. The light seemed dim below, as if swallowed up somehow by the basement itself. Winry shoved off the thought as she raced down the stairs, her hand on the rail. "Ed?" Her voice caught in her throat as her feet hit the floor.

Edward leaned against the wall where she'd left him, head sagging to the side. The blood stained his hair a lurid color and Winry had to swallow hard. She hated seeing him bleed. It reminded her too much of that night, when a suit of armor showed up at the door, her best friend in its arms, bleeding to death.

"Ed!" Forcing her feet to move, Winry ran across the floor. She crouched next to him, cupping his face. His skin felt clammy as she gently righted his head. "Ed, wake up." Her words sounded reed-thin, as if a puff of wind could blow them away. "Open your eyes! Ed!"

Heart thundering in her ears, Winry bit her lower lip, not even noticing the pain. Edward was still breathing, she could see his chest rise and fall, but he looked so pale. "Please, Ed. Open your eyes." She lightly patted his cheek. "Help is coming, Ed. I called the military police! Someone will be here soon."

"…nn?" His eyes barely dragged open, only offering Winry a glimpse of golden iris behind his lashes.

"Ed? Can you hear me?" She edged closer, trying to get a look into his eyes.

"Hnn." He blinked, and his lids stayed closed for a few rapid beats of her heart before they opened again. "…feel sick."

"I know." Winry stroked his forehead. "That's the concussion. I'm glad you didn't throw up on me when I carried you up the stairs." Her stomach twisted. If she'd kept quiet, done what Edward had asked and left him in the alley, maybe none of this would've happened. He would've been paying attention to the strange man, rather than to her, and wouldn't have gotten hit in the head. Later, later! she reminded herself fiercely. Edward needed her to take care of him now. "I need you to stay awake, Ed. Can you talk to me?"

"Oughtta get outta here," Edward mumbled as she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. "I'll be okay."

"I'm not leaving you!" Anxiety made her snap at him. "Someone's coming. The police are coming. They'll get us out of here, and we'll be okay."

Edward's hands came up to tug at her wrists. "Go meet 'em." He gave her a little smile. "I'll be 'kay. Just rest here."

"No, Ed." Winry nearly choked on a sob. _No tears unless they're happy tears. I made you a promise._ "I'm staying here, with you."

"Good." Winry straightened at the sound of that voice, turning to the staircase and the man standing in the mouth of the doorway. He smiled at her, the dim light glinting off of the knife, like a monstrous gardening tool, he held in his hands. "Makes it easier for me."


	12. Flower's Grave

Chapter 12: **Flower's Grave**

* * *

The little girl's face was wet with tears, and Alphonse felt like a heel. Still, he had to know, he had to get through to her. "I promise, I'm not going to be angry," he said. "All I want to know is why you've been following us. Can you tell me that? Please? It's really important. I need to find my brother and our friend. You can help me with that."

"Al, you're scaring her," Lena whispered over his shoulder.

He wanted to scream that he knew he'd scared the girl, but he was scared, too. Brother and Winry wouldn't just vanish, without anyone knowing where they were! This little girl had been following them for a reason, Alphonse knew it. "Please," he whispered.

The girl sniffed, rubbing her nose on the back of her wrist. Alphonse wished he had a handkerchief to offer her. "S'posed to be a secret," she mumbled, so softly, he nearly missed it.

"Sometimes, you have to tell secrets," Tony said in encouragement. The little girl squinted at him and rubbed her eyes with her other hand.

"He's right," Lena said. "Especially when it helps people. You'd like to help Al, wouldn't you?" There was an almost inaudible boom as her hand landed on his shoulder plate.

She swallowed, and sniffled again. "I s'pose. But Mr. Steinkuhl might get mad and take back my flower."

"Mr. Steinkuhl?" Alphonse hoped Lena might know the name, but Conway was a big place.

"Mmhmm. He asked me t-to watch you guys." The little girl stuck out her lip in a pout. "He gave me a flower to watch you!"

"I'll have my brother buy you a bunch of flowers," Alphonse promised, "if you can take us to Mr. Steinkuhl."

"Maybe we should find her parents first," Lena murmured.

Alphonse ignored her. Edward and Winry could be in danger. The little girl was his best chance – his only chance so far – to find them. "Can you show me where Mr. Steinkuhl is?"

After a few agonizing seconds, the curly head bobbed. "Yes," and Alphonse was glad he didn't have a mortal body. He was afraid he'd be collapsed on the sidewalk if he did.

"Can you take us right now?" Alphonse asked, nearly begged, and the little girl stared up at him for a long minute before taking hold of a gauntlet finger and tugging. Alphonse got to his feet, hunching down to let her keep hold of his hand. "Could I carry you, and you tell me where we're going?" Her eyes went wide and she nodded so hard, her hair flew everywhere. Scooping her up, Alphonse was careful to make sure her bare legs didn't get pinched when he bent his arms to hold her close. "All right, which way do we go?"

The little girl pointed down the street, away from the hotel. Alphonse glanced at Tony and Lena. "Try to keep up," he said to them, tightening his grip on the girl, and starting off. As she told him to turn at the corner, Alphonse picked up speed. He was going to find his brother and Winry, and they'd be okay.

_They'd be okay._ The chant kept running through his mind. They'd be okay, or Alphonse would make sure someone paid.

* * *

They were crouched together, just at the top of the stairs, little faded daisies crumpled over. He'd heard their voices, knew he didn't have a lot of time. The military police could be convinced the female's call was a prank, but he had to act now. He charged toward the pair, the agony in his feet and legs leaving him as he approached his prize.

Fear finally gleamed in the female's eyes. He laughed at the sight of it. The male's petals shifted, and his mouth moved. The daisies drifted together, a strange, windless dance, as Steinkuhl raised his knife, sweeping it down. Their petals twisted, and there was a horrible sound, metal ringing against metal, and the blade shivered out of Steinkuhl's hand. He roared, grasping his wrist, the pain nearly sending him down to his knees.

"Ha," the male panted up at him, "din't expect that, didja?"

He cried out, grabbing for the blade, his fingers not working right.

"No you don't!" The female's roots moved, striking the knife, spinning it across the room to thunk into the baseboard of the wall.

Steinkuhl screamed at her, a wordless shout of rage, and scrabbled across the floor after it. The female daisy flung herself after him, grabbing for his ankle. Ignoring the pain, he kicked, hearing her yelp, but her strong fingers didn't let go.

"Winry!" the male yelled.

He ignored them both, reaching for the blade. His fingers brushed over the back of it, making it wobble. Steinkuhl kicked at the hands clutching at his ankle. Grunting, he stretched harder, managing to curl the first joint of his longest finger over the blade. The edge cut him and he gritted his teeth. The grip on his ankle tightened like a vine around his foot. He kicked again, screaming, hearing another sharp cry in response. He refused to look back, blood slicking his fingers as he tried to pull the knife to him. Straining with effort, Steinkuhl fingered the edge of the blade.

"No!" The female daisy fought to drag him back.

"Winry, ge' away from him!"

Steinkuhl grunted, managing to get a finger-hold on the knife blade. He tried to roll, kicking again. His foot struck air.

"Winry!"

So many noises! Why were these daisies fighting so hard? He twisted, stabbing with the blade, making the female daisy squeak. She dropped his ankle and Steinkuhl rolled the rest of the way, getting to his knees.

"Winry get back!" the male daisy shrieked. His petals pressed together, that strange, bell-like noise ringing out, a bright blue light flaring.

Roaring, Steinkuhl swung the blade at the female daisy, her wide eyes staring at him as the blade came down.

* * *

"Winry, ge' away from him!" Focusing was so damned hard, and Edward knew he had just a split second to get this right. The room blurred and twisted in front of his eyes. He could see a smear of yellow – Winry's hair – and the greyish blob that had to be the guy who'd kidnapped them. The sounds coming from the man made the hair on Edward's neck prickle. He heard a thump and Winry squeal, and yelled, "Winry, get back!"

He clapped his hands together, dropping them to the floor. His sight cleared, just for that second, and Edward could see Winry sprawled on her hip, the asshole raising a huge knife over her head. The transmutation circle flared in Edward's mind, bright and clear, and he sent the wooden fist smashing up out of the floor and into their kidnapper.

"Ed!" Winry screamed.

He turned, too slow, far too slow, seeing her sliding down into the indentation his transmutation created in the floor. The wood groaned at her weight. She scrabbled at the rim, her fingers catching and holding on to the rim. Edward lunged across the floor, grabbing for her wrists. "Hold on!" The wood popped and he wondered if they were both going to crash through the floor he'd weakened with his transmutation.

"You." The man picked himself back up, bloodied and bruised. The floor crackled as he staggered toward them. Edward wondered inanely what happened to his knife. He pulled at Winry, trying to drag her back up out of the hole.

"Ed," she whispered. Her eyes were so huge, like they'd swallowed her face. Tears – no, no tears! – glistened in her eyes. Edward couldn't remember what was beneath this floor. Tables? That horrible basement prison? If Winry crashed through, she'd land hard, maybe breaking bones or her spine, and there wasn't a way to transmute a safe landing for her. Grunting, Edward tried to pull her back, his stump thumping on the floor.

The wood groaned and, out of the corner of his eye, Edward caught a glimpse of the crazy man, moving toward them. His weight made the fragile flooring shudder and quake. "Get the fuck back!" he yelled, "you're going to kill us all!" Winry's fingernails dug into his flesh wrist. Edward locked his automail fingers around her wrist, gritting his teeth at the throbbing in his skull.

"My daisies," the man crooned, taking another staggering step toward them.

How the fuck was he even moving, still? His legs were nothing but raw meat. Edward panted, not wanting to take his eyes off of Winry's face, but he was forced to look where the asshole was now. "Shit!"

The man had his leg pulled back, ready to kick. The floor bucked and rippled, and the groaning wood nearly drowned out Winry's scream.

* * *

"There!" The little girl pointed ahead, and Alphonse tracked the line of her finger. Something dark lay scattered on the sidewalk in front of the shop marked, 'Steinkuhl's Flowers'. If he had a heart, Alphonse knew it would've skipped. Instead, he slowed, setting the little girl down. "You go back for my friends," he said, leaning down to meet her gaze. "Is that okay?" He couldn't even see them, knowing his speed had left them far behind. Alphonse couldn't wait for them, didn't want Lena to see any of this. Something was wrong, something even he could feel without any senses to make use of. "Can you do that?"

She looked back the way they'd come, then nodded solemnly. Alphonse patted her head with its springy curls and started for the shop she'd pointed out. "Sir!" she shouted.

Alphonse turned back.

She twisted one of those curling strands around her forefinger. "'Member the flowers!"

He waved a hand at her, already striding on, dreading what he might find ahead.

A ceramic pot lay shattered on the sidewalk, the glass in the door exploded out from the door. Someone inside the building had thrown it, but Alphonse couldn't see any sign of someone within the shop. "Brother?" he called. "Winry?" He tried the door, almost out of habit, then realized, shoving his shoulder through. The door groaned in its frame, shattering around him. Alphonse stood in the room, looking around. So far, it seemed almost normal, a flower shop with a broken door, nothing more. He raised his voice, "Brother? Winry?"

Something made the floor judder, and Alphonse could swear that his metal suit rang like a bell. He swung, seeing an open door, a strand of ribbon tied to it, and went through the doorway, ducking his helmet and turning sideways to fit. It led to a back room, and a table, shoved up against the wall near another doorway. Another ribbon trailed from the table leg down the stairs behind the doorway.

Winry's scream echoed up the stairwell and Alphonse charged down. The narrow stairway forced him to go down sideways but didn't slow him much. "Winry!"

The sight that greeted him as he burst through the doorway to the lower floor made him freeze. As Alphonse watched, Edward rolled sideways, letting go of Winry's hand. She shrieked, banging along the sloping wall of wood, a crevasse opening below her hips, part of the wood falling away, her legs dangling through the hole. A man fell down on his backside, over-balanced from a kick, the weight of his body crashing to the floor making the wood wail. Alphonse clapped his gauntlets together, dropping them down to the floor.

Blue lightning erupted from beneath his palms, racing along the wall and wooden stairs. It crackled and screeched at the pressure of the transmutation, the wood roaring as Alphonse bent it to his will. Winry and Edward were thrown up out of the crevasse, and the man squalled as a band of wood wrapped over his torso, holding him flat on his back and unable to move.

"Brother!" Alphonse started across the floor, hesitating as the wood groaned.

"You're mine! You're my daisies! You can't do this!" the man shrieked, desperate in his attempts to free himself. His mouth was a cavern riddled with strings of spittle, like stalactites linking his upper and lower jaws together. "You're my daisies!"

He howled louder when Winry rolled over, picking herself up. She grabbed Edward's wrists, pulling him across the floor. Her shoulders shook as she moved, her hair blocking any view Alphonse might have of her face. Edward's automail leg was missing, and his flesh leg bent and flexed, as if he was trying to help Winry by pushing himself along. Winry collapsed at the foot of Alphonse's stairs, pulling Edward closer, so his back lay on her thighs, and his head was pillowed on her chest. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his blood-stained hair.

Alphonse desperately wanted to ask what had happened, why they were here, but he lay a comforting hand on Winry's shoulder, not surprised when she nearly shuddered it off. Edward's flesh hand rose, trembling, but twining a strand of Winry's hair around his fingers. He tugged lightly, as if to let her know he was all right, then his hand dropped, landing with a thud on the floor.

"Ed!" Alphonse shouted, reaching down to grab him as Winry let out a sob and the man screamed from his wooden prison across the room.

* * *

He wasn't aware of much; darkness, and light, and the urgent buzz of voices he didn't recognize swarming around him like bees at a disturbed hive. Something burned into his veins, and something else probed the horrible, yawning ache in his skull. Edward remembered yelling at the pain, fighting to get free of it, images flashing of Fuhrer Bradley, his sword raised and cutting down Winry; of the Truth, opening its mouth and snapping those broad teeth closed on Alphonse's armor, slicing it completely in half; of his mother, her expression disappointed as she said, "I asked you to look after your little brother, Ed. Why did you let him die?"

Her voice rang in his ears as his eyes snapped open, the beat of his heart thundering in his ears. For a few seconds, he couldn't figure out where he was, then the sterile scent, not quite hiding the stink of urine and feces, or death itself, and the soft sound of a machine, beeping in time to the rhythm of his heart, clued him in. "Hospital," Edward breathed, his sweating head falling back into the hard pillow beneath it. He groaned at the impact, eyes closing tightly, then opening again at the needle pricks of pain shutting his eyes tight caused. "Shit."

"Brother?"

Edward carefully turned his head, spying the hulking steel of his brother's armor. The clatter as Alphonse rose to his feet surprised Edward, and he wondered dazedly how long Alphonse had been sitting there quietly, not needing to move. Guilt stabbed through him at the idea. "Hey," he rasped out, balling his automail hand into a fist and raising it up for Alphonse to bump. "Why'm I here?"

"You have a pretty bad concussion," Alphonse said, tapping his fist against Edward's. "The doctor said you might not remember everything that's happened these past few days, but if you lost those memories, they'd come back."

"Hnn." Edward didn't like that at all. He needed his memories. How the hell had he gotten a concussion? Trying to think back, Edward closed his eyes. The strain of frowning hurt, but also helped focus his thoughts, and he jerked his head, looking up at Alphonse in horror. "Winry!"

Alphonse raised his gauntlets in placation. "She's fine, Brother! Scared, and waiting to see you. She's been sleeping on those hard hospital chairs, waiting for you to wake up!"

"She's alone? With that," Edward groaned as he tried to sit up, the room spinning horribly.

"Stay down, Brother!" Alphonse pressed him back into the bed, and Edward realized he was too weak to fight back. His stomach roiled, even though it felt empty. "She's okay. Tony's with her." The name sounded familiar, though Edward couldn't quite place a face to go with it. He glared up at Alphonse, wanting to see for himself, to be able to know Winry was okay. "Brother, I'll get her for you, all right?" He waited until Edward nodded, winced, and stopped fighting before removing his weight from Edward's torso. "Don't move." Alphonse wagged a finger at him as he walked out of the door.

Edward tried sitting up anyway, panting with the effort. As he toiled against gravity and his throbbing skull, he probed his memories. Mustang sent them so Winry could take a look at his automail, and they'd gone out to get something to eat. And Alphonse had gone with them…no, he hadn't. His head ached as he tried to cudgel his memory into giving him the information he needed.

The door opened with a squeal, Winry pushing through it. "Ed!" Alphonse was right behind her, blocking out any sight of the hallway beyond, then Winry managed to blot out the sight of Alphonse. She leaned over the bed, her hair spilling over her shoulders, the cool silkiness of the strands pooling on his arm. "Are you okay?" She looked so worried, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Sleeping probably wasn't what she'd been doing on that hospital chair, Edward thought.

"Yeah." His voice sounded rusty, even to his own ears. "What about you?"

Winry laughed, a little shaky, and straightened up. "I'm fine!" It sounded light and airy even for her. "You were the one with the concussion." Her smile vanished beneath a layer of guilt and she twined her fingers together, ducking her head to hide behind her bangs. "It's my fault, Ed. If I hadn't…he wouldn't have…"

"Winry!" Edward winced at the way his head felt when he yelped out her name. She wasn't crying, was she? "I…I can't remember. Can you tell me what happened?"

She raised her head, her expression miserable. "A guy…we went out for dinner. And we were walking back to the hotel when a guy stopped us. He wanted…he said he knew something about Tony's girlfriend, Anne. Do you remember?" Winry glanced at him.

Edward breathed out slowly at the name. "Tony. I remember him." And his girlfriend, who looked a lot like Winry. "We were trying to help find her."

"Yeah." Winry nodded, and raised her eyes to Alphonse. Alphonse's shoulder plates rattled as he raised them in a shrug. "We found her, Ed. And a lot of other women."

"Huh?" Ed couldn't remember any women. "How?"

"The guy…his name is Devon Steinkuhl." Winry took a deep breath. "He stopped you and me when we were coming back from dinner. He'd been watching us, I guess, since we got to Conway. And he knocked you out and took us to his house. He was going to kill us, Ed, but we got away." Her fingers were twisted so tight together, her knuckles were white.

"Winry." What wasn't she saying? "Did he hurt you?" Edward reached over, covering her hands with his own. The needle in his arm burned, but he could ignore it. "What happened?"

She shook her head, her hair lashing from side to side as she backed away from the bed, her hands pulling free of Edward's. "It's my fault, Ed! I-I nearly got you killed…I distracted you and he hit you with something, a club? I don't remember, but you went down so hard and…"

Horrified, Edward wished he could run away from her emotions. Alphonse stood with his head bowed, looking off to the side, as if there wasn't anything he could do or say, and Edward wondered if he'd heard this before. Winry probably told him, and even if Alphonse had said it was okay, she might not have believed him. Edward wasn't sure she'd believe _him_, either, but he had to try. "Winry, I'm okay! I mean, we got out of there, right?" He attempted a smile, knew it didn't work as well as he wanted it to from Winry's expression. "We're okay," he insisted. "Yeah, we got – I got put in the hospital. But we're still alive." That was the important part, wasn't it? "And you said we found Anne."

Winry and Alphonse exchanged a look. "Brother," Alphonse said, his voice ringing around in the steel shell of his body, "Anne's dead."

The room spun for a few seconds, and Edward fell back into the mattress. "She's dead?" he whispered, begging Winry with his eyes to tell him that Alphonse was kidding, even if it was a horrible joke.

She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "The guy, the florist," the word sounded like a curse, the way she said it, "had been k-killing people for years. The M.P.'s found a…a lot of bodies, Ed."

"He was in custody," Alphonse said in a curious tone of voice.

"Was?" Edward pounced on the word. "Did he break free?" Again with them looking at each other, making him want to gnash his teeth.

Alphonse said, "He's dead, too."

Winry wrapped her arms around herself as if she was cold. "He hanged himself with his bedsheet," she said, her gaze latched onto something on the floor.

Stomach clenching, Edward gasped, knowing there wasn't anything inside he could throw up, though his body wanted to. "Damn," he choked out. Somehow, he knew Alphonse was looking at him with sympathy, even if his metal helmet couldn't show expressions in any way. And Winry stared off into the distance, her jaw flexing as if she wanted to say something, too, but didn't trust herself. Edward wished he could remember what happened. There had to be more they weren't saying. "Winry?"

She made herself smile as she turned back his way. "It's okay, Ed. We got out of there…you saved me. Again." But her expression was as haunted as when he'd had to tell her about Scar, and her parents.

The door swung open before Edward could open his mouth, a nurse appearing in the doorway. "Mr. Elric, you're awake!" She gave Alphonse and Winry a look, pushing past them to take his pulse. "How do you feel?"

"We…ah…we'd better go, Brother," Alphonse said, laying his hands on Winry's shoulders to guide her out of the room. "We'll talk to you later." And they were gone through the swinging door before he could say anything to make them stay.

"Now then, Mr. Elric, tell me how you're feeling," the nurse said, her bright eyes focused on him like a pair of searchlights, and Edward sighed, knowing he'd have to answer, or risk never get out of this place.


	13. Daisy, Daisy, Give Me Your Answer Do

Chapter 13: **Daisy, Daisy, Give Me Your Answer, Do**

* * *

Tony Heubner rocked on his feet, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. The morning sun gleaned over the clean streets of Conway, the heat bringing out the sweet scents of flowers, and sending them drifting along like perfume on the soft breeze. Tony watched the front of the building, waiting for some sort of sign.

It came in the form of a giant suit of armor, pushing a wheelchair. A young man sat in the chair, his expression dark and angry, arms folded tight. A bandage wrapped around his bright yellow hair. Beside him, a young woman paced, grinning and obviously saying something that made the young man twist his body to snap something off to her.

"Brother," Alphonse Elric sighed, as the nurse followed the trio out of the hospital. "Can't you wait a few minutes before you and Winry start sniping at each other?"

"I'd like that," Tony said, smiling as he walked over to meet them.

"It's you." Edward gave him a look that said he didn't really expect – or want – Tony there.

Tony ignored him to grin at Winry. "You two look like you're doing pretty well."

Winry shrugged a bit as the nurse encouraged Edward to get out of the wheelchair. He all but darted out of it. "I'm so glad to be out of there!" He bounced in place, trying to hide a wince from his brother and Winry, stretching his arms over his head.

"I wanted to thank you both," Tony said. He took a deep breath when Edward turned a narrowed look his way. "You went through a lot, and you found out about Anne. And all those other women, too."

"You're welcome," Edward said, sounding suspicious.

Winry nodded her agreement. Her eyes were haunted by something, Tony couldn't quite read. Maybe regret. "I wish we'd found her before," she murmured.

"At least I know." Tony couldn't keep meeting her eyes, dropping his head to break her gaze. It was too emotive, and if he looked at her, he knew he wouldn't be able to go on. "I understand the M.P.'s are taking all the credit." He looked up at Edward, seeing a sudden flash of surprise on his face, hidden as soon as he realized Tony was looking at him.

"They can have the credit," he said, waving his hand. "We didn't really do much. Got kidnapped and banged up some." His shrug was both eloquent and signified the end of the discussion. "If there isn't anything else?"

"Not really. I just wanted to thank you, again." Tony stretched out his hand.

Edward gave his hand a split-second look, then took it. His glove didn't quite disguise the automail gripping Tony's palm. Winry and Alphonse shook his hand in turn. "Is that it?" Edward asked.

"Brother," Alphonse tsked, somehow giving the impression of rolling his eyes. Edward ignored him.

"Yeah. I just. Like I said. I wanted to thank you. For everything." Tony took a step back to allow them to head off on their way.

Alphonse put his hand in the center of Winry's back to guide her away, while Edward gave him a lingering stare. Something in his face softened, and he moved closer. "Look, there are reasons we don't want our names associated with this. There are people…" Edward glanced over his shoulder at the others, then back at Tony. His blazing eyes met Tony's. "People who'd hurt Winry if they knew where she was. We're doing our best to keep her safe."

Tony turned to stare after her. "Seriously? Who'd hurt a sweet kid like her?"

Edward's voice was bitter as he muttered, "You'd be surprised." Shaking off the dark expression, he went on. "It's safer for her if they don't know where she is."

"I get it." Tony raised his hands at the look Edward shot his way. "No, really," he said. "You'd do anything to protect her. I get it."

Scratching at the back of his head, Edward turned his head, a hint of color in his cheeks. "Yeah, well." His embarrassment was almost…cute. "You're welcome," he added, still not looking Tony's way. "Wish it had been better news."

Tony nodded. "Thanks, Ed."

He started to follow the others, raising a hand in farewell. Tony watched as he picked up speed, catching up to Alphonse and Winry. They all stopped for a second, maybe having a discussion, Tony wasn't sure, then they continued on their way, turning the corner and disappearing from view.

Tony whistled a couple of notes, tucking his hands in his pockets. Tomorrow, he'd claim Anne's remains, and take them home to bury. It wasn't what he'd expected when coming to Conway, having planned on proposing to her, but at least now, he knew. He walked away from the hospital, heading for his hotel. Someday, maybe, this would make sense. Now, he'd just have to mourn his loss, and be thankful Steinkuhl had been stopped, and couldn't kill any more people.

* * *

"Winry, are you ready to go?" Edward rapped his knuckles on the door to her part of their suite. "The train's going to leave in about forty-five minutes."

"I'm coming, Ed," was the muffled answer. Winry sounded cross, and Edward took a reflexive step back from the tone of her voice. It was a good thing, as the door swung open, and Winry stood on the other side of it. She had her toolkit slung over one shoulder, and her bag on the other. "I'm ready."

"Yeah, okay." Edward moved out of her way, since she seemed likely to stomp over him to get out of her room. "You ready, Al?"

"Yes, Brother."

Grabbing his suitcase, Edward opened the door, gesturing Winry through it. He couldn't help but remember the time Alphonse and he had walked her to the train station after Scar had nearly killed all of them. This time, it wasn't his fault, Edward reminded himself, but it didn't help the guilt lodged in his stomach. Winry had been so quiet since he'd gotten out of the hospital.

Edward still didn't remember everything that had happened while that Steinkuhl guy had held them captive. He'd gotten as far as the not-date, and walking home. But even that memory was mixed up with something else, going out with Alphonse and meeting Tony. The doctor had warned him that it might be days, or even a few weeks before it was all sorted out and he had his memories back. Some of them might not ever return, that bothered him more. Winry hadn't wanted to talk much about it, besides what she'd said at the hospital, and the M.P.'s had taken their statements separately. Edward wasn't privy to whatever she'd told them, though he figured if he really wanted to, he could request a copy of her report. That seemed kind of underhanded, though. Sighing, Edward hoped he could eventually recall everything else that had happened. Alphonse said he hadn't been there for any of it, though Edward figured his thinking Alphonse had been was part of the mix-up of the different times in his head.

"It was all Winry," Alphonse had told him, when she was busy packing. "Just ask her, Brother."

Some part of him didn't want to, though. Edward was almost afraid what she might tell him. But Winry deserved better, he thought; to know that he was worried about her, too. He mulled it over as they walked to the train station, buying their tickets, and leading the way onto the train. Their bench seats were as uncomfortable as always, though Edward slouched against the window, leaning his cheek against his hand, his elbow propped on the armrest. Alphonse sat across from the both, while Winry stared down at her knees, her hands clenched into fists and resting on her thighs. Once the train started, Edward cleared his throat.

"I…uh…got us tickets to Dublith," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Once we get there, I'll get you a ticket to go back to Rush Valley, Winry."

She nodded, not raising her head to look at him. Alphonse glanced at him, and Edward raised one shoulder in a shrug. "Winry," Edward said, trying again, "ummm…do you want to…talk about what happened?" A slow, sick realization came over him, and he turned to her. "That bastard didn't…didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"No!" Horror splashed over her face, and Winry shook her head, making her bangs swing. "No, not…he didn't…I mean, he knocked you out, and…" Winry swallowed and lifted her head. "It's my fault, Ed. If I hadn't distracted you, maybe we wouldn't have been in that mess. You wouldn't have a concussion."

Edward knew that expression well, having seen it in the mirror after a particularly bad night. "Winry," he shook his head. "I don't blame you. You shouldn't blame yourself."

"Yeah, Winry," Alphonse said, leaning across to lay his gauntlet over her fists. "It turned out okay."

"You've smacked me harder with your wrench before," Edward teased. "I'm going to be fine. And," he tilted his head, trying to make eye contact, "I may not remember everything, but I remember you were doing your best to keep me safe."

"I tried," Winry said softly, finally meeting his eyes. Sorrow and guilt lingered in hers, making them dark and dull.

"You didn't try," Edward told her, "you did! You, you carried me out of the basement, didn't you?" He could almost hear her telling him to stay awake and count the steps for her. "I must've been really out of it."

"That's why Brother's leg was down in the basement," Alphonse said, awestruck.

"I couldn't carry all that steel, Ed."

"You carried me, though." Edward set his hand on top of Winry's head, giving her a pat. "Out of that basement." If she'd left him – no, no, she hadn't, because she would never leave him. Not like that. "Thanks, Winry."

"Yeah, Winry, that's amazing!" Alphonse squeezed her fists. "You're amazing."

Winry smiled, though Edward thought it half-hearted, more for their benefit than out of any joy. He rumpled her hair and dropped his hand back to his thigh. "When we get to Dublith, you'll have a chance to meet Master Izumi," he told her, "and she'll tell you about how dumb Al and I were when we were kids."

"You're still pretty dumb, Brother," Alphonse said cheerfully.

"Nng! Not that dumb, Al!" Edward snarled at him. "Nor brain damaged!" Pointing at Alphonse, he shook his finger at him.

"If you don't get your memories back, you're brain damaged," Alphonse parroted a speech he'd been reciting for a few days now.

"No, I'm not!" Ed snarled, but risked a peek at Winry, to see how she was dealing. The corners of her mouth turned up a bit, and he let himself relax. If she was smiling, she had to be doing better. Everything was going to be okay, he was sure of it.

* * *

Winry jerked awake with a gasp, slapping hard at the hand on her shoulder. "No!" she started to cry out, but a hand clasped over her mouth, making her jerk back in an attempt to escape. She could see the glint of steel, bracing herself for the knife blade that swung down at her.

" – inry!" Edward was hissing at her, his face close to hers, and Winry realized suddenly the knife wasn't real, it was the glint of light on the space between his jacket and glove on his automail arm. "Are you awake?"

She nodded, her body slowly relaxing for the terror that had held her stiff just a few seconds ago. Edward dropped his hand from her mouth, letting out a puff of air, and sitting down on the floor between the bench seats with a thump. Winry remembered Alphonse saying he was going to move when Edward fell asleep, so she could lie down and rest, too. "Unhh," she moaned, brushing her hand over her eyes. They felt wet, and she wiped them quickly, hoping Ed hadn't seen.

"Winry," Edward was watching her. He'd seen everything, she knew it. "You were having a nightmare."

"Mm." She sat up. Unable to avoid Edward's eyes, not with him crouched almost at her feet, Winry wasn't sure what to do with herself.

Edward nudged her knee with his knuckles. "I don't want you to have bad dreams, Winry."

Her mouth thinned. "I don't think you get that choice, Ed."

He sighed, bending his legs and folding his arms over them. "No, I guess not." Resting his chin on his arms, he seemed to stare at her knees. "I have nightmares," he said, soft and low. "Sometimes, I can't sleep at night from them."

Winry sucked her lower lip between her teeth. "I know," she said, just as quietly. She remembered him crying sometimes, during the time when he was recuperating from his automail ports being installed. It wasn't always from the pain.

"Yeah, I remember." Edward glanced up as a rattle of metal announced Alphonse's return. He clambered up off the floor, sitting next to Winry again. Alphonse sat across from them. "I never thanked you for that, did I?"

"You didn't have to." Winry shook her head. "We're friends. Family. We take care of each other."

"Yeah," Alphonse said, "we do."

Edward mumbled his agreement, "Try to, at least."

Winry sighed softly. "That's all we can do, really." She dropped her gaze again, tightening her fingers into fists. "I don't think I should be traveling with you guys."

"It can be dangerous, Winry." Puffing out a breath of air, Edward gave her a sidelong look. "We don't want you getting hurt."

"I'm not the one getting hurt!" Winry thumped her fist on her thigh, the sting of it feeling good. "You're the ones getting hurt. I'm just dragging you down. I'm a liability! Look at what happened with Scar. We could've been killed, and because I distracted you, that man Steinkuhl," her voice faltered. "He could've killed us, too, like he did all those women."

Edward turned to her, catching her hand before she could hit her thigh again. "He didn't. And you…you got me out of there. You carried me up the stairs, Winry. And took care of me. You could've ran, but you didn't. That's amazing, it's brave, and you should've left me there, but I'm glad you didn't." He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb, the fabric of his glove rough on her skin. "Thanks, Winry."

"You take good care of us, Winry," Alphonse said, the metal of his armor squealing as he shifted his weight on the bench. "You always have."

There were no recriminations, nothing in either of their voices to tell her they regretted her being with them. Alphonse seemed to radiate affection. Edward's smile was hopeful, even, and his thumb still roughened her knuckles. A part of her still felt guilt over her hand in their capture. Winry thought she might always feel that. But the brothers were right – Edward and she had survived, and managed to stop a murderer. Maybe she should be concentrating on that. She took a deep breath, and managed a smile, a real one, for a change. "We take care of each other," Winry said, and was rewarded by Alphonse's nod and Edward's huge grin.

* * *

The newspaper article had been carefully clipped and forwarded to Roy in a plain envelope. Fuery had been the one to open it, and the soft, questioning noise he made alerted Hawkeye. She'd held out her hand to Fuery, read the article, and brought it to Roy's attention.

"What's this? More paperwork?" Roy gave her a lazy look.

"No, sir, something that might be of interest to you." She set the article on his desk and left the office.

Roy dragged his attention from her backside to the paper, picking it up to read.

_Serial Killer Caught in Conway_, the headline read.

_A spate of disappearances of young women were solved by the capture of Devon Steinkuhl in Conway. Steinkuhl, a florist, had been kidnapping women and it is believed torturing them prior to murdering them. Thanks to the efficiency of the Conway Military Police…_

Roy stopped reading after the reporter's tongue-in-cheek praise of the M.P.'s got too blatant to stomach. He pulled the top left hand drawer of his desk open, taking out a manilla file folder. Flipping the cover open, Roy studied the photograph of a woman inside. She smiled out of the picture, her dark, wavy hair framing her face, and her left eyebrow quirked up. Roy set the article on top of her photograph, took a large envelope out of his desk, and slipped the file inside. Sealing the envelope, Roy addressed it to Madam Christmas, care of the Calico Girlfriend Tavern, Central City, Amestris.

"One file down," he whispered, looking at the other three files nestled inside the drawer before pushing it closed again.

* * *

It had been a long trip in the back of a van. He hadn't been awake for all of it, but long enough to know time had passed. The light through the front windows changed, though the man who sat in the back of the van next to his gurney never did.

He woke again when the van slowed and doors opened. This was different, there was an energy to the man as he left the back of the van that hadn't been there before. His gurney was hauled out of the van and dropped to the ground with a jolt. He blinked up at the dim dusk sky, which disappeared almost as soon as he saw it, blotted out by a cracked ceiling.

The gurney rolled along a corridor, shoved hard enough to push through a pair of swinging doors. The man strapped to it rolled his eyes, tugging at the bonds. Thrashing his head, he grunted as he tried again to free himself.

A bright light flipped on overhead, blaring down into his eyes and he winced, squinting at it. The man who'd pushed him spoke, a susurrus of noise that echoed around the room. It made no sense to him. He fought against the straps holding him down, his rage erupting out of his throat.

Someone moved into his vision and he stared up at the man, dressed in white, his grizzled hair cut close to his head. The man held up something that sparkled and gleamed, like a red rose petal, turned into a gem. "I know you can't wait to get free again, Mr. Steinkuhl," he said, "and don't worry, you will." He smiled showing a gold tooth embedded in his mouth. "With a little work, I'm sure you'll make you a perfect member of our society."

* * *

(End)


End file.
